


he closed his eyes and let the storm soak him

by adamganseys



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Christmas, Domestic Fluff, First Date, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-The Raven King, Prom, Smut, Thanksgiving, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2018-06-05 21:05:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 123,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6723430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamganseys/pseuds/adamganseys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically mapping out Ronan and Adam's relationship during and post TRK, as they figure out how to function as a couple and heal from their individual traumas, with awkwardness, first times, ugly fights, and heartfelt confessions. Starts off with Ronan and Blue discussing The Kiss during chapter 33 and an extended version of chapter 39, and then jumps to the aftermath of chapter 67 and will eventually continue post epilogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the kiss

**Author's Note:**

> So, Pynch in TRK killed me while also leaving me pretty unsatisfied, and this is the result. Starts with Ronan/Blue talking about the kiss (because I refuse to believe that the one eyebrow raise is all we get from Blue re: Pynch and because there wasn't enough meaningful Ronan/Blue in TRK). I'm not great at Ronan's POV so I hope this isn't too bad. Feedback would be appreciated! (Also, @ all the other fic writers, please fill in the blanks between chapter 67 and the epilogue for Pynch, I am desperate. Also, chapter 39, because I think we can all agree that that was way too short).

Ronan watched, leaning against the counter, as Blue scavenged through the various items in the kitchen of the Barns, curiosity alighting her wounded eyes. As she played with a dream toaster, Ronan’s mouth opened of its own accord.

“Sargent?”

Blue turned to look at him, a hint of a smile on her face despite the pain Ronan knew she was going through. He really should’ve dreamed her that eye cream. “Yeah?”

Ronan froze, while his mind caught up with his mouth caught up with his intention. _Adam_. Ronan’s mouth still felt warm from Adam’s lips. He felt restless, his mind and his nerves and his heart buzzing. He did not know why he felt the urge to talk to Blue about it.

They were closer now, but they had never really talked about anything like _this_ before. Still, maybe for the first time in his life, words felt necessary to him. He needed to let it all out so he could breathe. He needed someone to tell him what the fuck he was supposed to _do_ , because he sure as hell didn’t know. Blue probably didn’t, either, but he figured she knew more about this shit than he did. She had dated both Adam and Gansey, after all.

He couldn’t speak, though. His throat felt dry.

Blue seemed to sense his hesitation. She frowned. “Ronan? What’s up?”

Ronan took a deep breath, then looked towards the living room to make sure Adam and Gansey were still in there and out of earshot. They were. Blue followed his gaze and raised an eyebrow at him.

His throat was still dry. He scratched the back of his neck.

Blue waited a moment longer, then said in exasperation, “Just spit it out, Lynch.”

Ronan swallowed. “I kissed Adam,” he blurted out. He hadn’t meant to be quite that blunt. He had planned to ease into the revelation. But now it was out there, and Ronan really hoped that heat wasn’t rising to his cheeks. He suddenly couldn’t remember why he wanted to talk to the maggot about this.

Blue’s mouth dropped open, and then she controlled herself and closed it. But she couldn’t stop her eyebrows from rising all the way up to her hairline. “Oh.”

“ _Oh?_ ” Ronan demanded, in a harsher voice than he had intended.

Blue bristled. “Well, what do you want me to say?”

He took a deep breath and shoved his hands in pockets. “I don’t know. Fuck, I don’t know.”

Blue’s face softened. “Well, okay. Did he… kiss you back?”

Ronan nodded, once, stiff.

Blue searched his face. “Then… that’s good, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah. It’s good.”

“Then why do you look like you’re about to throw up?”

Ronan glared at her. “I do not.”

Blue rolled her eyes. “Okay. Whatever. When did this even happen?”

“Today.”

“ _Today?_ Here? When?”

“He was sitting on my bed and—“

“You kissed him in your _bedroom_?” Blue’s expression was a mixture of scandalized and impressed.

Ronan flushed and was about to respond scathingly to cover up his embarrassment, but Blue spoke again before he could. “Okay, so, you kissed him. He kissed you back. Then what? What did either of you say?”

“Nothing. I… I just stood up afterwards, and I stared at him, waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t, so I – I just told him that I’m going downstairs and I left.”

There was disbelief painted all over Blue’s face. “Jesus shit.” It wasn't the type of phrase that usually came out of her mouth, but Ronan supposed the situation called for it.

“Don’t blaspheme,” Ronan muttered absently. Blue just snorted.

Neither of them said anything, for a while. Adam and Gansey were still talking in hushed tones in the other room. Ronan wondered what they were talking about.

He thought about the moment again. He did not know what had possessed him to kiss Adam right then. He hadn’t planned it from beforehand. But as he sat there in his childhood bedroom, Adam right beside him, watching him turn the wheels on his toy car, the soft music and their breathing the only sound in the room, he could not help it. He had put the car down, and kissed him, and Adam had kissed him back. Adam’s lips were chapped, and Ronan had felt the kiss all the way down to his toes, heat spreading through him from the gentlest brush of lips. God, _god_.

The happiness he had caught was still in his hands, in his heart, but a nervousness about what came next weighed down on him. He didn’t know where Adam stood.

Blue finally spoke then, carefully, “So, why did you tell _me_?”

Ronan shrugged. “I don’t know, man. I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted.

“How do you expect _me_ to help you with that? What, I’m a girl so you think I’m an expert at the boy thing or—“

Ronan gritted his teeth. “Jesus god, Sargent, no. I just needed to—“ He let out a frustrated breath. “Forget it.” He moved to walk away, but Blue took a few steps so she was right in front of him. She didn’t say anything. She just looked. Her expression was thoughtful, faraway.

Finally, she murmured, “Well, that explains a lot.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Blue raised her eyebrow again. She really needed to stop doing that. It was unsettling. Ronan didn’t know how a 5-foot tall midget could have that effect. “You two have been… together a lot lately. And then, out there, today, I mean. You kind of sounded like a married couple.”

Ronan scowled. “Shut up.”

Blue laughed softly. “I’m serious.” She paused, and Orphan Girl came galloping into the kitchen. She said something in that other language.

Ronan sighed. "Not now, urchin." But he patted her head all the same. Blue looked slightly wary, not sure how to approach the girl. Ronan rolled his eyes at her expression. "She's not a fucking zoo animal, Sargent. There's no sign that says Proceed With Caution or what fucking ever." Though, to be fair, she did have hooves and a tendency to bite things. Still, he thought Blue and Gansey's fear - or something like fear - of her was unnecessary.

Blue glared at him. "I know that." Orphan Girl looked at Blue quizzically, then galloped away again. Blue's expression was slightly bewildered, but then she turned to Ronan, all earnest. “I think he likes you too, if you’re wondering. And not just because he kissed you back.”

Ronan shrugged again. “He might. That doesn’t mean he’s ready to…” He didn’t finish the sentence. He hoped Blue understood, anyway. He hoped _Adam_ understood.

Ronan Lynch didn’t know how to feel things half way. The intensity of his emotions was overwhelming, sometimes. Whether it was anger, fear, grief, sadness.

Love.

He didn’t know how much Adam was ready to give. He wouldn’t begrudge him if he couldn’t give Ronan anything, if he didn’t want to give him anything. He had been loving Adam Parrish from a distance for a year now, after all. He would keep on loving him from a distance, if he had to.

Blue hadn’t said anything for a while, but she had been searching his face with a complicated expression. And then, suddenly, she said, her voice full of something like awe, something like clarity, “You’re in love with him.” It wasn’t a question.

Ronan tensed. He did not say anything, simply stared back at her. It was confirmation enough.

Blue smiled, not mockingly, not smugly, but with the kind of sincerity and kindness that Ronan sometimes saw in Gansey’s smile. It almost hurt to look at her. She squeezed his arm. “Good luck, though I don’t think you’ll need it. And…,” she hesitated. “Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me.”

Ronan feigned nonchalance. She might not have had any advice for him – he wasn’t sure he’d be able to take it if she did, anyways – but he felt lighter, somehow. “Whatever, maggot,” he said, but he ruffled her spiky hair fondly. Blue scowled at him. Ronan put his hand forward, and Blue bumped her fist with his before throwing her arms around him in a quick hug.

Just as they were pulling away, Gansey and Adam walked into the kitchen. Gansey’s eyes widened. “Am I dreaming? Did I just see the two of you _hug_?”

“It’s a miracle,” Adam said wryly. Ronan’s heart skipped at the sound of his voice, at the amused expression on his freckled face.

Blue shrugged. “Well, surprisingly, he can be less of a shithead than usual, sometimes.”

“Thanks, maggot, you’re occasionally not annoying as fuck, too,” Ronan said sarcastically. Blue just grinned at him.

“Heartwarming,” Adam deadpanned, but his lips quirked upwards. Ronan couldn’t look away from that lazy half smile. Then Blue elbowed him, coughing. Ronan glared at her. She raised her eyebrows in that creepy way of hers for the twenty-seventh time.

He’d been staring at Adam for too long. Right.

“I’ll walk you guys out,” he muttered. Adam stayed in the kitchen, and when Ronan looked back, the other boy’s expression was thoughtful and distant.

The sky was dark when he walked out to the porch with Blue and Gansey. They said their goodbyes, and then Ronan stood there, staring out at the fields. He had been standing there a long time when Adam finally came out and stood beside him.


	2. unguibus et rostro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam did not say anything, and neither did Ronan. His mind was spinning furiously, pros and cons and wants and consequences all blending together. He wanted, he wanted, he _wanted_. This was not a game, but he knew that if he went into this unsure, both of them would lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extension of Chapter 39. Wondering how it all exactly went down will haunt me for the rest of my life, so I need as many fics extending it as possible, tbh. There already others posted that are way better than this, but, well, I tried.

Adam stood in the kitchen as Ronan walked Blue and Gansey outside, his heart stuttering in his chest. Gansey’s words were on a loop in his head. _I suppose… she makes me quiet inside. Like Henrietta_.

He did not understand anything.

Except, no. He understood this: the way Ronan Lynch’s lips made him feel, the way _Ronan_ made him feel, his magic and his unguarded smile and his touch and his hungry gaze.

But Ronan was not a thing to be played with. This was not a game. He couldn’t go back from this, if he took the plunge.

He heard Blue and Gansey leave, and Ronan stayed out on the porch, and Adam was still in the kitchen.

He remembered the feel of Ronan’s mouth on his, like the soft pattering of warm rain against his skin. He thought maybe he wanted to get soaked again. 

After a long moment, he took a deep breath and went outside.

Ronan was looking out into the field, and Adam could see the bits of his tattoo that weren’t covered by his black tank as he walked up to him. He stood on Ronan’s left, and they watched the three deer that walked in the grass. Somehow, Adam knew that Ronan had dreamt them. The pale one was especially beautiful, but then, most things from Ronan’s head were beautiful.

Adam did not say anything, and neither did Ronan. His mind was spinning furiously, pros and cons and wants and consequences all blending together. He wanted, he wanted, he _wanted_. This was not a game, but he knew that if he went into this unsure, both of them would lose.

Then Ronan said, his voice soft, “Adam?” Just that. Just his name, his first name, spoken like a prayer.

Clarity cut through Adam so suddenly and so swiftly that he did not even need to hesitate. He turned to Ronan, who was looking at him with uncertainty in his eyes. He moved closer, and then he kissed him.

Ronan stilled, seemingly frozen, but Adam put his hands on Ronan’s shoulders, and then Ronan was kissing him back, his lips as gentle as raindrops on damp earth. But Adam did not want gentle. He moved closer to Ronan, his arms tightening around him, his fingers brushing the nape of his neck. Ronan’s hands hesitantly placed themselves on Adam’s chest, sliding across his ribs, then moving to his lower back. He moved closer still, until their chests were flush together, and Adam kissed Ronan again and again and again, closed mouthed but fierce. Both their eyes were closed, their breaths hot as their lips collided repeatedly. 

Ronan was the first to pull away, but Adam chased after his lips, not ready to stop. He wasn't sure if he’d ever be ready to stop now that he’d tasted this, tasted Ronan, tasted what it was like to be touched, to be wanted, but Ronan just leaned his forehead against Adam’s, catching his breath. His eyes were still closed. Then he leaned in again, brushed his lips against Adam’s only once, then moved to the corner of his mouth, his chin, his jaw. Adam’s breathing came faster.

Ronan hesitated at Adam’s jaw, then came back up to his mouth, and they were kissing again, lips on lips, and Adam wanted more, _more_ , but he soon broke away, his forehead resting against Ronan’s, his hands still clasped around his neck, Ronan’s still on his waist.

He opened his eyes, but Ronan’s were still closed. They were both breathing hard. Ronan swallowed.

“Ronan,” Adam said softly. Ronan opened his eyes, and there was wonder and awe and happiness so blinding that Adam almost wanted to look away. Adam cleared his throat, and they pulled apart from each other, no longer touching. Adam stuffed his hands into his jean pockets, and Ronan fiddled with the leather bands on his wrists. Adam was pleased to see that the other boy’s cheeks were slightly flushed. He was less pleased that his probably were, too.

“We should probably go inside and try to dream,” Adam said. He didn’t particularly want to do that, but they should. They needed to. Right?

Ronan nodded, his gaze flicking from Adam to the door. “Probably.”

“Okay, then,” Adam said, and turned towards the door.

They went inside.

When they reached the living room, Adam sat down on the couch. He stared at Ronan, and Ronan stared back, and after a moment, Ronan sat down next to him. They were close, but not close enough that they were touching.

As they turned to each other, Ronan’s expression was complicated again, just as it had been after he had first kissed Adam in his bedroom. Adam wanted to uncomplicate it, so he leaned in and kissed him again. 

He brought his hands to cup Ronan’s face, his fingers running over the stubble on his jaw. Ronan’s one hand came to rest on his knee, and the other tangled in his dusty hair. Their kisses got more heated, more intense, and then Adam licked the seam of Ronan’s lips with his tongue, and then Ronan parted his mouth, and then there was a fire inside Adam that he didn’t think he had ever felt before. Ronan groaned against his mouth, and Adam slipped his fingers under the sleeve of Ronan’s tank on his shoulder, touching the black ink that curved there. Adam wanted to move closer, wanted _more_ , but Ronan pulled away, breathing hard, and Adam forced himself to not chase after his lips this time.

“ _Fuck_ , Parrish,” Ronan said, entirely awed and breathless. Adam just hummed in response, feeling like he was in a dream.

They both pulled their hands away, trying to get their heartbeats under control. Adam leaned back, resting his head against the soft cushion behind him, and after a moment Ronan mirrored him. As they looked at each other, Adam felt that one of them should say something, but neither of them knew what to say. Their feelings were out there, spoken through lips on lips, hot breaths intermingling, hands on clothes on skin. But saying them out loud would make them more tangible, more real, more terrifying, somehow.

He saw Ronan swallow and then he lifted his hand to Adam’s cheekbone, tracing it gently, reverently. The look in his eyes was too much. Adam did not know what to do with it. Ronan brought his hand up to Adam’s forehead, brushing away the stray hairs, then smoothed his fingers over his eyebrows, and went back to his cheekbone. His eyes seemed like they were trying to memorize his features. Adam felt his face grow warm under that gaze, under those gentle fingers.

“What?” Adam whispered. Ronan’s scrutiny made him uncomfortable and thrilled all at once. 

“Nothing,” Ronan whispered back. “Just looking.”

Adam felt himself smile. “As if you don’t already do enough of that, Lynch.”

Ronan shrugged. “Are you complaining?”

“Definitely not,” Adam said, a little too quickly to maintain his pride.

Ronan laughed softly, and it was so open and joyous and kind that Adam’s breath caught. Ronan’s hand was still cupping Adam’s cheek, and he unconsciously leaned into it. Ronan’s thumb brushed Adam’s jaw, and without thinking, Adam covered Ronan’s hand with his own, bringing it to his mouth, kissing his palm. Ronan sucked in a breath. 

Adam dropped their hands and swallowed, gathering his nerves. “Can I see your tattoo?”

Another complicated expression crossed Ronan’s face, a different kind of complicated than before. He stared at Adam for a few moments, then nodded. “Sure.”

He moved back and took off his shirt in a quick motion, and then Adam was staring at his bare chest. Ronan was muscular and chiseled to perfection, like those sculptures of Greek gods he had seen in his textbook. He wanted to run his fingers across the skin of his chest, wanted to taste it, but he buried those urges down as Ronan turned away, his back now facing Adam.

The wondrous tattoo was on full display before him, and every hook and claw and beak and vine was just _Ronan Ronan Ronan,_ his essence captured in a tangled forest of black ink. Adam’s fingers started at his shoulder and traced the tattoo down, down, down, until he reached the waistband of Ronan’s jeans. Ronan was completely still underneath his touch, his hands fisted at his sides.

Adam traced his way back up and stopped in the middle of his back, and said, softly, “ _Unguibus et rostro._ ” Ronan exhaled shakily, and turned to face him, his eyes raw with an emotion Adam couldn’t name. Adam started to withdraw his hand, but before he could, Ronan grabbed it and gently brought it to his lips. He kissed the tip of each of Adam’s fingers, and then his knuckles, and Adam’s breath hitched.

Adam leaned in and kissed him again, this time with less hunger and more softness, kissing him the way Ronan had kissed his fingers, just a whisper of a touch. When he pulled back, he couldn’t help but let out a yawn. It was late.

Ronan snorted. “Am I that boring, Parrish?” 

Adam rolled his eyes. “Shut up. I’m just tired.” 

Ronan nodded. “It is pretty late.” He hesitated. “You can, uh, sleep in Declan’s room.”

Adam fidgeted with his hands, wringing them together. “Sure. Where are you going to sleep?” 

“I’m not.”

Adam raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not tired. And when I am, I’ll just crash on this couch.”

“Not your room?” 

Ronan shook his head. “I haven’t slept there since…” He trailed off.

“Oh. Okay, well.” He cleared his throat and stood up. “Goodnight.” Truly, he wanted to stay here and make out with Ronan some more, but he was exhausted, and it was going to be a long day tomorrow. Especially since they didn’t get any dreaming done today.

Ronan stood up too, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Night, Parrish.” Adam felt the urge to throw himself at Ronan’s lips again, but he refrained. He just gave him a small smile and went upstairs. 

He could still feel the warmth of Ronan’s lips as he got into bed. When he finally stopped thinking about Ronan Lynch long enough to fall asleep, it was dreamless and more peaceful than he could ever remember it being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine (or hope) they probably had more ~talking about feelings~ than I put in here, but I'm going to save that for the later chapters. Next chapter will start off right after Gansey's resurrection!


	3. wake up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of Adam wanted to hold onto Ronan, touch him, kiss him, put his head on his chest so that he could hear the steady beat of his heart, just be with him and know that he’s alive, alive, alive. The other part wanted to run away as far as he could, just in case the demon was still lurking somewhere beneath him, waiting to strike, waiting to take Ronan away from him, using his own hands as the murder weapon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning to write a fic with Adam comforting Ronan as a companion to my other one with Ronan holding Adam as he cried, but it never ended up happening. So, maybe this kind of makes up for that? Tbh I'm not a fan of Aurora's death and think it was unnecessary and I'm.... not super confident about writing how Ronan deals with his grief (and we got so little of it in TRK too so :/) but I hope I don't fuck it up too bad? It'll have to have a pretty significant presence in the next few chapters too, probably.

Gansey died, and then he came back to life. The minutes in between were the worst of Adam’s life. The only thing that came close was when he heard Ronan being unmade as he was rendered powerless and sightless, but at least Ronan was still alive, at least there was still _hope_. In those few minutes that Gansey was dead, it felt permanent. Time had stopped, and so had Adam.

But then Gansey was alive, he was alive, and he did not know if Cabeswater had brought him back perfectly, but he was _alive_.

After everything was explained to the now alive Gansey, they all rode back to Monmouth in silence, with Blue, Henry, and Gansey in the Pig and Adam, Ronan, and Orphan Girl in the BMW. Orphan Girl was asleep in the back, and Ronan and Adam did not say a single word as they drove back. Adam’s hands were shaking.

He could still feel the demon inside him, taking his autonomy away from him. He could still feel the soft skin of Ronan’s throat under his fingers as he strangled him. He could still hear Ronan’s choked gasps as he was dying.

Part of Adam wanted to hold onto Ronan, touch him, kiss him, put his head on his chest so that he could hear the steady beat of his heart, just be with him and know that he’s alive, alive, alive. The other part wanted to run away as far as he could, just in case the demon was still lurking somewhere beneath him, waiting to strike, waiting to take Ronan away from him, using his own hands as the murder weapon.

He chose a middle ground, leaning his head against the passenger window and closing his eyes.

When they reached Monmouth, the Pig was already parked. Which was surprising, since Ronan drove faster than anyone and Blue, of all people, had been driving the Pig, while a disoriented and exhausted Gansey rested in the back.

None of them were going separate ways tonight. They would not leave each other.

Ronan didn’t bother waking Orphan Girl up, just scooped her up in his arms and carried her over his shoulder, clutching her tightly. Something inside Adam hurt at the sight.

When they walked in, they saw Gansey sprawled on his bed, awake, but barely, and Blue and Henry sitting next to him.

Ronan first put the sleeping Orphan Girl on the couch, then made his way over to the others with Adam. Adam wanted to take his hand, touch him in any way to know that he’s real, that he’s alive, that the nightmare is over, but he kept his arms at his sides.

Gansey smiled up at them. “You know I’m not on my deathbed anymore. You all don’t have to stand around me like I am.”

Ronan snorted. “Better get used to being mother-ed for the next month or so, Dick. Hey, now you’ll know what I feel like.” There was something off about Ronan’s voice; it was not quite committed to the lighthearted insult, its tone more appropriate to words like _I’m so fucking glad you’re okay you asshole and you’re never allowed to leave me again._

Adam could relate. 

Blue cleared her throat. “So, um, sleeping arrangements?” It was 1 am. They were all exhausted.

Ronan shrugged. “The urchin's on the couch. Henry can take Noah’s room. Sargent, you can sleep on the bed with your boyfriend—“

Blue turned red at this, in both embarrassment and indignation. “Ronan, that’s – don’t be –“ But then she just huffed, too tired to argue. “Whatever, asshole.”

Ronan just rolled his eyes and said nothing.

Adam cleared his throat. “Think you forgot someone, Lynch.” 

Ronan looked at him, his gaze uncertain. “You can decide where you want to sleep, Parrish.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Adam saw Blue looking curiously between them. Adam didn’t even have to think about it. “I’ll sleep in your room.” Part of him was still trembling from the memory of his hands around Ronan’s throat – a part that wouldn’t disappear anytime soon, he guessed – but there was no way he was letting Ronan sleep alone. Ronan now had not only his mother to grieve – the grief that would come back in full force now that the day’s crazy events were over – but he also had to deal with all the horrible trauma of tonight. 

Ronan nodded at him. His expression seemed conflicted, and Adam frowned, wondering if Ronan didn’t want him there.

Blue stood up and walked up to them. She wrapped her arms around Adam in a fierce hug, holding him tightly, and after a moment, Adam hugged her back. 

She gave him a sad smile as she pulled back, and then she hugged Ronan, who seemed startled at the gesture, but returned it. “I’m glad you’re not dead, asshole,” Blue mumbled into Ronan’s chest. The sound of Ronan gasping and choking came back to Adam, and he flinched slightly. 

“Ditto, maggot.” 

When they were inside Ronan’s room – a whimsical mess, as it always was – Adam closed the door behind him and stared as Ronan sat down on left side of his bed, against the headboard. Adam took a deep breath and went to sit beside him. They weren’t touching. Adam looked at his hands. 

Adam didn’t know what to say. _I’m sorry for almost strangling you? I’m sorry for being helpless while you were dying? I’m sorry that all this of this, your mom, Gansey, me, happened back to back?_ All of these seemed trivial, ineffective. 

Adam finally looked at Ronan, still at a loss for words, and saw that the other boy was staring ahead, and there were silent tears running down his face. His eyes looked empty. He wasn’t doing anything to stop the tears. He was shaking.

Adam’s heart shattered into a million pieces.

“Ronan,” Adam said softly, and the other boy looked at him. Adam slowly lifted his hand to Ronan’s cheek, wiping the stray tears away. Ronan’s gaze hid nothing, now. All the grief and pain and trauma that had bombarded him one after the other since they found Aurora’s mangled body in Cabeswater was palpable in his eyes.

And then Adam could not stand it. He threw his arms around Ronan’s neck, and Ronan did not hesitate to melt into his arms. When they had first found Aurora’s body, Adam had tried to offer some comfort, any comfort, but Ronan shook him away every time, a solitary creature of grief and anger and pain. But now, Ronan held onto Adam like he was his lifeline, like he would disappear if he removed himself from Adam’s arms. 

Adam moved closer, pressing his chest flush against Ronan’s, his arms tightening behind his neck, one of them coming up to stroke his buzzed head. Ronan buried his face in Adam’s shoulders, and though he cried silently, Adam felt his sobs reverberate through his whole body.

Adam didn’t know how long they sat like that, clutching each other, holding each other together when they were this close to falling apart. It might have been minutes or hours or days. Finally, Ronan stopped crying and pulled back. Adam’s shirt was soaked through on one shoulder.

Ronan aggressively wiped at his eyes and rubbed a hand over his head. For a few moments neither of them said anything.

“Are you going to sleep?” Adam asked finally.

Ronan just looked at him, quiet. Adam nodded, then got under the covers. He looked at Ronan, raising an eyebrow, tilting his head, letting him know that he should do the same. He did. Adam lied down, the pillow underneath him much softer than the one at his apartment above St. Agnes. Ronan was still sitting, staring at Adam.

“Get over here, Lynch,” Adam said, firmly, gesturing to his chest.

Ronan stared at Adam for a long moment, and then lied down hesitantly, laying his head on Adam’s chest. Adam’s arms came around him, holding him. Ronan let out a shaky breath, and Adam clutched him tighter.

“Wake me up if you have a nightmare or feel… just, wake me up if you need anything,” Adam said softly.

“Okay,” Ronan mumbled.

They were still wearing the day’s dirty, bloody clothes and still had jeans on, but neither of them cared. 

His own breathing evened out and he slipped into a restless sleep. 


	4. precipice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Adam,” Ronan said again, and then he took Adam’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing his knuckles, his fingertips. Adam’s breath hitched. Ronan brought his other hand to his mouth as well, holding both his wrists gently, kissing the red indents in his skin where the rope had rubbed them raw.

The next morning, Adam woke to the sound of Ronan angrily getting dressed while pacing his room. Adam rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up, staring at the restless boy in front of him. “Ronan?”

Ronan looked at Adam, his expression complicated. “Morning, Parrish.”

“Mornin’,” Adam drawled, yawning. He felt like he could sleep for another 12 hours. He stood up and walked to where Ronan was putting a navy shirt over his black tank. He had presumably showered, since the blackened blood was no longer visible anywhere on him. The purple bruises on his neck, though, were very visible, and Adam felt as if he had been punched when his eyes landed on him. He lifted his hand up and lightly traced the bruises, and Ronan froze beneath his touch.

“Adam,” Ronan said, a warning in his voice.

Adam let out a shaky breath. “I’m –“

“Don’t,” Ronan said, voice raw. “It wasn’t you.”

Adam shook his head. “I could have – I should have –“

“ _Adam_ ,” Ronan said again, and then he took Adam’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing his knuckles, his fingertips. Adam’s breath hitched. Ronan brought his other hand to his mouth as well, holding both his wrists gently, kissing the red indents in his skin where the rope had rubbed them raw. 

“Ronan…,” Adam said, hoarsely, but he had nothing to follow it up with.

“Adam,” Ronan said a third time, and this time it was a statement.

Adam swallowed. “You should have at least fought back.” 

Ronan just leveled him with a look. They both knew that he wouldn’t, and why. 

Adam sighed and drew away, putting aside his crushing guilt for later. He looked Ronan up and down. “Why are you ready so early?” It was only 9 am, and they had barely slept.

“I’m driving to D.C. I…,” He faltered, blinked wetness out of his eyes. “I don’t really want to break the news to them over the phone.” 

“Right. Yeah. Of course. When will you be back?”

“Tomorrow evening, probably. Gansey said he’d watch over Orphan Girl until then, or the psychics will.”

“Okay. I could watch her for a bit, too. Gansey’s awake?”

“Yeah. He’s okay, I think. Henry went home. Blue went back to Fox Way for a bit. She’s getting answers, and then she’ll be back here. I’m just waiting for her before I leave.”

Adam nodded, and then they both went out into the main room. Blue walked in the door just as they did, and she smiled at them tiredly. It did not reach her eyes.

They sat on Gansey’s bed and Blue rehashed everything the psychics had told her. She ended with, “And one last thing… I—“ She broke off, her lip trembling. Gansey put his hand on hers. “Calla told me that Noah is gone. For good.” 

They were all silent for a few moments. Adam immediately turned to Ronan. He knew that after Blue, Ronan had been the closest to their ghost friend, and his heart clenched at the thought of Ronan having another loved one to mourn. Ronan’s expression had not changed, but there was a new wet sheen to his eyes. Adam leaned into Ronan, his shoulder touching the other boy’s. Ronan glanced at him and Adam looked back.

When Adam analyzed his own feelings, there was sadness, but also acceptance. He knew it was only a matter of time.

Finally, Gansey broke the silence. “What happened?”

Blue took a deep breath. “They were fuzzy on the details, but. They think Noah sacrificed himself to save you. When you died the first time. It… it wasn’t Glendower. It was Noah. Time is a circle and all that.” 

They all digested this information. Ronan stood up suddenly.

“Well, if that’s all, I should go.”

Gansey frowned. “Ronan—“

“Look, the drive to D.C. is fucking long and I just want to get this over with, okay?”

Gansey nodded, accepting this. Ronan started to walk towards the door. Adam stood up, then. “I’ll, um, leave too.” He waved weakly to Gansey and Blue and hurried out after Ronan.

They walked down in silence. “Do you want me to give you a ride,” Ronan asked once they reached the BMW.

Adam shook his head. “My bike’s here.” 

“Okay.”

They stood there awkwardly, staring at the ground. Adam felt off kilter. This new thing with Ronan was good – it was better than good – but he didn’t know the rules yet. He supposed they’d talk about it sooner or later.

Ronan swallowed. “I’ll see you later?” 

“Yeah,” Adam replied softly, and then he hugged Ronan. Ronan startled a bit, but then he put his arms around Adam’s waist, burying his face into Adam’s shoulder. Adam tightened his arms around Ronan’s neck, breathing in his scent. “Drive safe,” Adam murmured into his neck.

“I won’t,” Ronan replied, and Adam pulled back and swatted at him, grinning. Ronan’s mouth twitched.

He took Ronan’s hands in his and squeezed them, once, twice, and then he walked to his bike. Ronan got in his car and drove away. 

It was probably ridiculous, but the thought of not seeing Ronan for two days was unbearable. After everything they’d been through, Adam never wanted to let Ronan out of his sight. He was afraid the demon was still out there, somewhere, waiting to unmake its dreamer, even though he knew it wasn’t true. He sighed, shaking those thoughts from his head, and biked to St. Agnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short. I've kind of burnt myself out with how many fics I've written in the past few days, mostly for prompts, but I wanted to get back into this. Next chapter will be a first date :)


	5. first date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam was sitting on his bed, nervously wringing his hands together. He shouldn’t be nervous. He _wasn’t_ nervous at all before he decided to have the stupid fucking idea to send Ronan Lynch flowers. Sure, it was partially a joke, but it also partially wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is sort of messy and probably out of character tbh. But I couldn't resist giving them a classic first date, and of course Adam Parrish can't _not_ buy the object of his affections flowers. For the record, I don't think Ronan would actually go back to Aglionby even for a little bit but... it's more convenient to write that way and I want some cute sappy moments for them in the hallways in the future so? I cheated a little bit. Hopefully his reasoning for it is at least a little bit plausible.

It was strange how quickly everything went back to normal. After everything with Gansey’s family was sorted out, they went back to school. Aglionby felt like a dream, like a hallucination, after everything that had happened.

The next time Adam saw Ronan was two mornings later, when he was getting out of the Hondayota at Aglionby. Ronan was leaned against his BMW and caught Adam’s gaze. Adam’s heart beat faster as he walked towards the other boy. 

“Parrish,” Ronan nodded his head in greeting.

“Lynch.” Adam bit down the urge to touch Ronan, to press their lips together. “I thought I was hallucinating. Ronan Lynch outside Aglionby?”

Ronan’s mouth quirked at the familiar banter. “Yeah, well, better get used to it, Parrish.”

Adam was seriously worried now. “I—what? You’re actually coming back to school? Why?”

Ronan shrugged. “Only for a couple weeks or so. Maybe a month. After everything it’s just… hard to be away from… you know… for too long.” _Hard to be away from Gansey. And you._ “And it’s… also hard to say no to him. I’ll broach the topic of school with him later, but right now I just… Besides, all that time alone would just leave me in my head for too long and…” Ronan broke off, taking a shaky breath. “That’s not the best place to be right now.” 

“Right,” Adam said softly. “Of course.” He stepped closer to Ronan, put a hand on his upper arm. He heard Ronan’s sharp inhale. “How was D.C?”

Ronan shrugged again. “They took it hard, especially Matthew, but they’ll get through it.” 

“And you?” Adam asked quietly, lightly tracing his fingers along Ronan’s arm. 

Ronan smiled without humor. “You know me, Parrish.”

“I do know you, and that’s not an answer.”

Ronan hung his head. “I’m just—I’m trying not to think about it. One step at a time or whatever bullshit saying you want to insert here.”

Adam nodded, accepting that for now. He started to head towards the building where they had Latin.

“Parrish, wait—“ Ronan grabbed Adam’s wrist, and Adam turned to him, questioning.

Ronan let go and chewed on his leather bands. “Uh. Do you have work after school?”

“Yeah. But I get off at six. Why?” It was a Friday, but he had planned to catch up on the homework he had missed in their days of absence.

Ronan cleared his throat nervously, shuffled back and forth on his feet. “I—Uh. I was thinking… maybe we could go to dinner. Maybe a movie.” 

Adam couldn’t help the slightly amused smile on his face. “You’re asking me on a date?”

Ronan huffed, red creeping up his neck. “What the fuck do you think, Parrish?”

Adam rolled his eyes, then frowned. “Why?”

Ronan looked up sharply, tensing, and Adam shook his head. “No, I mean—it’s weird, isn’t it? Like, it’s just us, right? It’s not like we’re strangers getting to know each other or whatever. I didn’t think we needed to do the whole dinner and a movie thing.”

“I know, I just thought… we could use a dumb, normal date for one night, you know?” Adam just stared at him, and Ronan averted his eyes. “Nevermind, it was stupid—“

“Hey, no, you’re right. Let’s do it.” Adam knew what Ronan meant. The scars of what had happened cut both of them deep, and nightmares plagued them every night. They needed this. One normal night, forgetting the loss of Cabeswater, forgetting that Gansey had died and Adam had almost killed Ronan, forgetting everything but the fact that they were two teenage boys going on their first date.

Ronan’s eyes were hopeful. “Yeah?”

Adam nodded. “Pick me up at seven.” Then he smiled crookedly. ”So are you buying me flowers, too, Lynch?”

Ronan raised his eyebrows. “If I remember correctly, Parrish, that’s actually your area of expertise.” 

Adam’s face heated at the sad flower arrangement he had sent Blue when they first started dating. He pushed Ronan’s shoulder lightly and Ronan laughed. 

They walked to class together, closer than normal, bumping shoulders and hands occasionally. Every touch sent a jolt of electricity through Adam.

 

 

*

 

Ronan was sitting on his bed at Monmouth with his headphones on and eyes closed, Orphan Girl next to him playing with Chainsaw. Orphan Girl poked him. He ignored her. She poked him again. He swatted her hand away. Then she took his headphones off and screeched in his ear.

Ronan startled and cursed, covering his ear with his hand. “Jesus Christ, brat! The fuck do you want?” 

She pointed to the window. “Go outside.”

Ronan scowled. “Why?”

She didn’t answer him, simply annoyed him until he relented. He found Gansey already on his way out, presumably to go be gross with Blue. 

“Lynch. Where are you heading to?”

“Fuck if I know. The urchin won’t leave me alone until I go outside.” 

When they reached outside, there was a car with a sign on the passenger door that said FLOWERS BY ANDI! A woman was walking towards them with a bouquet in her hands. Ronan stared in disbelief, wondering if this meant what he thought it did.

“Hello,” the woman said cheerily. “I’m looking for a Mr. Ronan Lynch?”

Ronan was still staring, dumbfounded, so Gansey answered for him. “Yes, that’s my friend right here. Those are… for him?” His tone was doubtful.

“Sure are. From a Mr. Adam Parrish.” She handed the arrangement to Ronan, who took it numbly. 

As the woman walked back to her car, Gansey cleared his throat. Ronan could feel the dark blush that was extending from his cheeks to his neck. He didn’t look at Gansey, instead opening the little card inside. It simply said: 

 _I can’t wait for tonight_. _– Adam_

Orphan Girl had been watching this with a steady curiosity. She poked Ronan. “Adam?” 

“Yeah, brat. Adam.” Ronan was aware that his voice was awed and breathless, and when he finally dared a look at Gansey, his friend was grinning from ear to ear. 

Ronan was about to snap something, but Gansey spoke first. “Adam told me that you two kissed, but I wasn’t sure if… well. I’m glad things seem to be going well.”

“When the hell did he tell you that?” Ronan demanded.

“The day it happened. Right before me and Blue left the Barns.” Ronan thought it was ironic that Adam and Gansey apparently talked about the kiss when he discussed it with Blue. Gansey cleared his throat again. “If I may—“ 

“You may not.” 

Gansey ignored him. “Those are lilacs, pink carnations, and gardenias.” 

“So?”

“So, I’ve read a bit about flowers and their meanings in Victorian times. I’m sure Adam has too. Pink carnations symbolize gratitude. Gardenias can mean joy and are considered to be… one of the most romantic flowers. And lilacs—“ He paused, giving Ronan an intense look. “Lilacs are a symbol of first love.” 

 _Gratitude, joy, first love._  

Blushing even brighter, Ronan glared at Gansey. “Parrish didn’t fucking choose them for their goddamn symbolism, Gansey.” 

Gansey leveled him with a look. Ronan knew he was right. Adam didn’t do anything halfway and without thinking it through. Ronan swallowed, his palms sweating.

“I’m really happy for you two, you know,” Gansey said softly.

Ronan exhaled. “Yeah. Thanks.” 

“When are you supposed to meet him?”

“I’m picking him up in an hour and a half.” 

“Ah.” He looked at Ronan’s clothes with disdain. “You aren’t going in _that,_ are you?” 

Ronan snorted. “I don’t fucking need fashion advice from _you_ , Dick.” Then he angrily went back up the stairs and into his room, banging the door for emphasis.

Then he took deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

 

 *

 

Adam was sitting on his bed, nervously wringing his hands together. He shouldn’t be nervous. He _wasn’t_ nervous at all before he decided to have the stupid fucking idea to send Ronan Lynch flowers. Sure, it was partially a joke, but it also partially wasn’t. 

Especially taking into account the flowers’ meanings. He just hoped Ronan hadn’t the thought to look it up. Adam had spent significantly more money on this than he had on his last flower arrangement, and he was really beginning to regret it. 

He jumped when he heard a knock at the door. When he opened it, Ronan Lynch was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking savagely handsome in dark jeans and a black shirt. Adam could see the edges of his tattoo peak out from underneath the collar. 

Adam, for his part, was wearing a light blue shirt over jeans. He had no idea where Ronan was planning on taking him, so he wore something casual but a little nicer than his usual clothes. As he was getting dressed, he had thought about how ridiculous it was that he was actually spending valuable time debating what to wear on a date with Ronan Lynch. 

He saw Ronan eyeing him up and down, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Parrish,” he said, all casual.

“Lynch,” Adam replied, all casual, stepping outside and locking the door behind him.

“Ready to go?”

“Depends. Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” 

“It’s a surprise, Parrish.”

Adam just stared at him warily.

Ronan rolled his eyes. “Relax, man. I’m not taking you to an abandoned church to fucking murder you or whatever.”

“Because _that’s_ exactly what I was worried about. Is the movie a surprise, too? No offense but I don’t really trust your taste in movies.”

“Fuck you, my taste in movies is great.” 

Adam snorted. “Sure. We’re eating first, right? I’m starving. Or is the order of events another surprise?”

“It wasn’t going to be, but just for being a smartass, it is now.” 

Adam huffed. “Asshole.” Ronan just grinned, and they silently walked to the BMW. 

When they were finally on the road, Ronan broke the silence, clearing his throat. “I, uh, liked the flowers.” 

Adam’s face heated and he didn’t look at Ronan. “Of course you did. It’s my area of expertise, after all.” 

“I think the urchin liked them more, though. She ate half of them.” 

Adam gave a startled laugh. “Of course she did.”

“It took me twenty minutes to get her to stop whining to take her with me. She wouldn’t fucking leave me alone once she found out I was going to see you. What fucking sorcery did you use on her, Parrish, because she’s fucking obsessed with you.”

Adam shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Probably the same sorcery I used on you.”

When Adam turned to look at Ronan, he could see pink blooming on his cheeks. His voice was strained when he replied, “No sorcery necessary there.”

Adam grinned at him, something warm spreading through him. “Yeah?”

“Well you don’t have to look so fucking smug,” Ronan grumbled, but his mouth twitched. 

Adam laughed again. “I do, actually.”

They sat in comfortable silence after that. Adam felt bold enough to put his hand on top of Ronan’s on the gearshift, his thumb rubbing circles on Ronan’s wrist. He looked out the window as he did it, hiding his smile at Ronan’s sharp intake of breath.

“She needs a name,” Adam said suddenly.

“What?” 

“Orphan Girl. We can’t really keep calling her that.”

“Right. Yeah. I was thinking about that. What do you think of Opal?”

Adam smiled. “I like it. Maybe we should ask her, though.” 

Ronan snorted. “I didn’t ask her before calling her Orphan Girl.” Adam gave him an unimpressed look. He sighed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll ask her.”

Adam turned his gaze back to the window, and then frowned as realization hit him. “Are we going to the Barns?”

“Do I have to define the word surprise for you, Parrish? With that brain you should really know it by now.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Asshole.” He didn’t bother asking any more questions.

The rest of the ride was spent in alternations between comfortable silence and familiar banter. More than once, Adam felt Ronan’s gaze on him, and when he caught him, Ronan didn’t look away. They simply stared at each other, a slight smile on both of their lips, both marveling at the fact that this was allowed now. Adam’s hand didn’t move from its position on Ronan’s. 

They did not, in fact, go to the Barns, but they _were_ in Singer’s Falls. Ronan took them to a small, rather dead looking area with a few restaurants and shops. He parked outside one restaurant, which Adam thought looked like a vintage diner from a movie. There was even a vintage car parked outside, red and shiny and the kind that Gansey would love as long as it wasn’t functional. A neon sign flashed  _Vicky's Diner_. 

“What is this place?” Adam asked as they got out of the car.

“Patience, Parrish. You’ll see.”

Right before they entered, Ronan suddenly grabbed his wrist. Adam turned to look at him, questioning. Ronan’s expression was almost a little afraid, apprehensive. Ronan opened his mouth and then closed it again. He shook his head and let go of Adam. 

Adam frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s—let’s just go inside.”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. Yeah.”

When Adam stepped inside, his first thought was that he had just stepped into one of Ronan Lynch’s dreams. That’s the impression this place gave off, with its otherworldly atmosphere, its whimsical and old-fashioned décor. The feeling that this place was from a movie, or from another decade, or from another universe entirely filled Adam.

At their arrival, an older woman with brown hair and kind face, who looked to be about 50, immediately looked up and walked over to them. Halfway to them, her expression turned to one of shock and then to delight. 

“Well, I have to be imagining things,” she said when she was in front of them. Adam turned a confused look to Ronan, and was startled to find him smiling at the lady, nothing sharp or menacing about him. 

“Didn’t think you’d recognize me,” Ronan said.

“Well, you have significantly less hair than when I last saw you and you look a lot scarier, but as if I could forget that face.”

Ronan was still smiling, and Adam wondered if he really had stepped into another universe.

Ronan then introduced them. “Vicky, this is my… friend, Adam Parrish.” 

The woman – Vicky – turned that warm smile to Adam. “It’s very nice to meet you, Adam.” 

“Nice to meet you too, ma’am,” Adam replied. 

She turned back to Ronan. “Jesus, how long has it been? Just over two years, hasn’t it?" 

Ronan nodded, his expression tightening just a bit. “Yeah. Not since…”

Vicky’s face softened. “Then we have to make up for lost time, don’t we? Come on, let me seat you.”

They sat at a booth with red vinyl seats. The place had a good amount of people, but not to the point where it was too much. 

“Well, I’m assuming you’ll be having your regulars?” Vicky asked. 

Ronan raised his eyebrows. “You remember my order, too?”

“You insult me, Ronan.”

“Yeah, the regular for me. Parrish will need to scan the menu, though.” 

After Vicky walked off, Adam just stared at Ronan, dumbfounded. Ronan first handed him the menu, indicating to order. Adam looked through and picked something that looked good and wasn’t too expensive. 

After deciding, he looked at Ronan again, raising his eyebrow. Ronan looked back, looking almost nervous. He cleared his throat. “I, uh—I used to come here all the time. Me, my dad, my mom, Matthew, sometimes Declan… we’d come at least a couple times a month. Or, at least, when dad was actually around. Sometimes I’d come with just Matthew, too. Vicky’s been here ever since I could remember.” He hesitated, then. “I… I haven’t been here since… you know.”

Adam nodded, awed. Here was Ronan, showing him yet another part of himself previously known to no one but his family. A part that he hadn’t revisited since his father’s death. Adam knew Ronan must have been feeling a lot right then, grief and nostalgia and happiness all at once. He reached across the table and took Ronan’s hand in his, squeezing it. 

“I can’t believe you brought me here,” Adam breathed, his voice shaky and filled with emotion. 

Ronan just shrugged.

“Why did you?” Adam persisted, needing to know the answer. 

Ronan hesitated again. “I—I just wanted… it’s like the Barns. What I wanted to…” He broke off, frustrated. Ronan was never good at putting his feelings into words. Adam squeezed his hand again reassuringly. “I don’t know when it happened, but the Barns became more to me than what it used to be, you know? More than just memories of something that isn’t there anymore. It’s still home, but now, it’s—it’s all memories of now, with all the time I spent there alone or…” He paused again, his ears turning pink. “Or with you.”

Adam didn’t breathe. He didn’t think he could breathe with the massive lump in his throat. 

“I just thought,” Ronan finished, “that maybe I could do that with other places, too.”

Adam exhaled shakily. He didn’t say anything. His mind was filled with that white fuzzy light again.

After a minute of Adam’s silence, Ronan started to look anxious. “Adam?”

“I—“ He cleared his throat, embarrassed as how hoarse his voice was. “You— you have no idea how difficult it is to stop myself from lunging across this table and kissing you right now, Lynch.”

Ronan’s blush extended from his ears to his neck. His voice was slightly strained when he replied, “Patience, Parrish. We’ll have plenty of time for that later.”

Adam laughed, kicking him under the table, and then keeping his feet there, caught in between Ronan’s. He stroked his thumb back and forth on the back of Ronan’s hand. Ronan’s eyes darkened.

After a moment, Adam said, tentatively, “Seriously, though. Thank you for bringing me here. I— it means a lot that you’re trusting me with this.” 

“Don’t be an idiot. Of course I fucking trust you.”

“I know, but…” Adam didn’t know how to finish that thought, though, so he just squeezed Ronan’s hand again. “This place is really nice,” he said instead. “Reminds me of the Barns, somehow. And all of your dream things.” 

Ronan smiled sharply, visibly pleased by the comparison. “I think that’s why Dad liked it in the first place. He always said that this place felt like it was a dreamer’s. And some of them _are_ dream things, actually. My dad was friendly with Vicky and dreamed her a bunch of stuff to put around the place. Nothing too suspiciously magical, but even if it was, she never asked questions.” 

“Vicky’s nice,” Adam pointed out.

“Yeah, well, she always gave me extra dessert, so I liked her.” Then he grinned. “I saw some of her family around here, too. Her daughter was my age and had a crush on me.”

Adam snorted. “Of course she did.” 

“Is that disbelief I hear, Parrish? This isn’t me fucking bragging. She asked me out when we were thirteen and it was traumatizing.”

Adam laughed. “Did you actually go?”

“Fuck no. Don’t worry, there’s no reason for you to be jealous.”

“Good, because I was absolutely consumed with envy,” Adam deadpanned. 

“Fucking right you were.” 

They ordered and ate and bickered and it was so easy and familiar that Adam’s heart clenched with it. When it was time to pay, Ronan snatched the check. Adam glared at him. 

“I’m the one that asked you out and brought you here, so I’m fucking paying. You can pay next time.” 

Adam relented. 

Ronan promised Vicky that he’ll come by more often, and Vicky told him that her daughter would love to see him again. Ronan paled and Adam had to keep himself from bursting into laughter. 

Outside, the small town was almost deserted, and as they walked back to the car, Adam slipped his hand into Ronan’s, intertwining their fingers. When he glanced at the other boy, he was pleased to see that Ronan was flushed from his ears to his cheeks and neck.

When Ronan caught his smug grin, he scowled. “Shut the fuck up, Parrish.”

Adam grinned wider. “What? I think it’s adorable.”

Ronan sputtered. “ _Adorable?_ ”

They were at the BMW now, so Adam leaned back on the passenger door and pulled Ronan to him, wrapping his arms around Ronan’s neck. He leaned in close, his lips just a breath away from Ronan’s. “Yeah,” Adam whispered. “Adorable.” He feels more than hears Ronan’s sharp inhale.

Adam hadn’t intended to full on make out with Ronan against the BMW, really, but he couldn’t help it. As soon as their lips touched, Adam was burning. His mouth automatically opened up and his hands tightened at Ronan’s neck, moving upwards, his nails lightly scratching Ronan’s head. Ronan made a low noise against his mouth, and Adam pulled him closer.

It was tongues and hot breaths and short gasps. It was Ronan’s hands tangled in Adam’s hair and Adam’s fingers skimming the skin of Ronan’s lower back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It was the heat spreading throughout Adam’s whole body, all consuming and insatiable. 

Ronan broke away first, gasping for breath, leaning his forehead against Adam’s. Adam automatically chased his lips, but Ronan leaned back, laughing lightly.

“Calm down, Parrish. We’ll be late for the movie if you keep attacking me like that.”

“Forget the movie. Let’s go back to the Barns. Or wherever you want.” 

“Damn, I was so looking forward to doing the classic yawning and putting my arm around you move at the theater.”

“If you tried that, I’d just be kicked out of the movie for laughing at you too loudly.”

Ronan absently combed his fingers through the hair on Adam’s forehead. “You’re ruining all my plans, you know. I was going to kiss you at your door at the end of the night, but you just had to fucking jump the gun.”

“You’re lucky I waited this long. If it were up to me we probably never would’ve made it to the diner.”

Ronan smirked, though his face was flushed from the implication of those words, and Adam knew his probably was too. “So goddamn greedy.”

“That’s me,” Adam agreed. He considered. “Let’s just drive somewhere. You have to drive back to Monmouth tonight anyways because of Opal. We’ll stop someplace on the way.” 

Ronan kissed his forehead, once. Adam was taken aback by the casual tenderness. “Whatever you want, Adam,” Ronan murmured against his skin. 

They drove and drove and drove, and then they lay in the grass on an empty field, staring up at the stars. Adam turned so he was lying on his side, and he stared at Ronan’s profile openly. His closed eyes, his thin lips, his sharp jaw, the line of his neck. His gaze caught there, at the dark bruises that still were even more visible under the moonlight and bright stars.

“You’re staring,” Ronan said, his eyes still not open.

“Yeah.” Adam tried to make his voice sound normal, but it came out choked instead. Ronan opened his eyes and looked at him, realizing what he was looking at. 

“Don’t—,” Ronan started. 

“Don’t what?” Adam snapped. “Don’t think about the fact that I nearly killed you? Sorry if that’s a little bit hard for me to forget.” 

“Stop. That wasn’t _you_.” 

As the moment of Adam’s hands around Ronan’s throat came rushing back, Adam recoiled in horror as he thought about how he had clutched Ronan’s neck when they were kissing, earlier. What was to say that he wouldn’t choke him again? “It was my hands. How can you—how can you let me touch you after—I shouldn’t have let myself—“

Ronan grabbed Adam’s hands, not so gently, brought them to his mouth, just like he had two days ago. He kissed them again and again and Adam felt tears prickle at his eyes. 

“The demon is gone, Adam,” Ronan said softly. He kissed his knuckles. “And I let you touch me because I want you to fucking touch me. I’d be pretty fucking sad if you didn’t.”

Adam almost rolled his eyes, his ears turning pink. Ronan gently wiped Adam’s tears, and his fingers stroked Adam’s cheek softly. Adam leaned in and kissed him. He sniffled. “I was so scared. When you were being unmade and I—I couldn’t do anything,” Adam whispered against Ronan’s mouth.

“I know. But none of that was your fault. We’re here now. We’re okay.”

Adam nodded, then let out a watery laugh. “This was supposed to be a normal date, without all this bullshit. Of course it didn't last.”

Ronan shrugged. “Well, nothing about us is normal. I don’t mind.”

Adam smiled, then looked at Ronan seriously. “You know, I want to make it – what I did – up to you.” 

Ronan groaned. “Jesus, Parrish, I fucking told you—“ 

Ronan stopped talking when Adam suddenly climbed on top of him, his head dipping to Ronan’s neck. Adam’s lips brushed over the bruised skin. Ronan’s breath hitched.

Adam swallowed. “No, I mean… I want to _make it up to you_.”

Ronan exhaled. “Okay.”

Adam smiled against Ronan’s throat. A thrill went through Adam as he kissed Ronan’s jaw, his neck, his collarbone. Ronan’s breathing turned harsh and his hands tangled in Adam’s hair. Adam kept licking, sucking, biting the skin, leaving new marks of pleasure on top of the bruises, and Ronan let a few embarrassing sounds escape.

When Adam's teeth grazed the juncture where his neck and shoulder met, where the first edges of his tattoo started, Ronan let out a ragged, “ _Adam_.” Heat burned through Adam’s whole body at the sound.

Everything in Adam wanted _more_ but he knew the fragility of this new thing between them, so he pulled back and looked at Ronan’s flushed face, his wide pupils.

“So,” Adam said, breathing hard. “Did I make it up to you?”

Ronan nodded furiously, still breathing hard. Then he scowled at Adam’s smug expression. Adam moved off of Ronan and lay next to him again, lined up against his side. They stayed in the field for another hour, talking about everything and nothing, Ronan periodically bring Adam’s hands to his mouth. 

On the drive back, Ronan asked Adam, “So, you told Gansey about us?” 

“I—Yeah. Did he talk to you about it?”

“Yeah. He had a lot to say when your flowers arrived.”

Adam turned bright red. “He saw the flowers, too?”

“He was outside with me when the lady delivered them. He had some interesting theories about the meanings of the flowers.”

Adam groaned and sunk down in his seat. “Fucking Gansey.”   

Ronan laughed, and then said, “Well, I told Blue about us, too.” 

Adam raised his eyebrows. “What? When?”

“Same time you told Gansey. I can’t believe I kissed you and you immediately went to _Gansey_ about it, Parrish.”

“Well, I was confused! I didn’t know what to do and I needed advice.”

“Oh,” Ronan’s tone was careful. “Well, what did he say?” 

Adam snorted. “He gave the ‘don’t hurt my daughter’ speech. Said you were fragile and that I shouldn’t break you.” 

“The fuck? Tell Gansey that I can take care of myself, Jesus. And then he gets mad when I call him Dad.” A pause. “I… are you still confused?”

“What? No. I wouldn’t have kissed you again if I wasn’t completely sure, Ronan. I thought that was obvious. I’m all in this.”

Ronan let out a breath. “Good.”

Adam put his hand over Ronan’s. 

When they reached St. Agnes, Adam was reluctant to get out of the car. A little desperate, Adam asked, “You want to come up for a bit?”

Ronan’s expression was pained. “I can’t. If I leave Opal with Gansey any longer, she might bite through all of Monmouth.” 

Adam nodded, still wanting to stall. It was ridiculous. He was going to see Ronan tomorrow. He was being ridiculous.

“Hey,” Ronan said, his voice soft. Adam looked at him, questioning, and Ronan leaned forward, brushing his lips against Adam’s gently. His hand reached up to cup Adam’s cheek, and Adam sighed into the kiss. It had none of the hunger of before. It felt like a promise, a confirmation.

When Adam finally pulled back, he felt distinctly undone. “See you tomorrow?” His voice was a little more breathless than he wanted.

Ronan smiled, kissing him once more. “Yeah, Parrish. See you tomorrow.”

Adam forced himself to pull away for good and get out of the car. As he collapsed into bed and closed his eyes, there was a stillness inside him that he could not name. When he fell asleep, he did not dream.


	6. beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan had considered driving to St. Agnes every night this week, wanting the comfort of Adam’s presence at night, wanting his body pressed against his. They had not slept next to each other since the night that Gansey had died, and it was the grief and trauma of everything that had happened that had made their hesitations and inhibitions irrelevant at the time. Now, Ronan does not know where the lines are. He is afraid of wanting too much, of being too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is unnecessarily long. Future chapters will be shorter and won't chronicle like every single day that Pynch spend together lmao. I also switched to present tense because it's easier to write. Mild warning for very brief mentions of sexual assault, internalized homophobia, and grief. I used Google Translate for the Latin so like.... it's probably very inaccurate whoops.

Ronan spends most of Saturday alternating between grief and happiness. He figures that will be the new normal, for a while. For once, he actually picks up his phone, and only because Matthew is calling. He talks for over an hour, and Ronan listens, knowing that his little brother needs to feel his presence during his own mourning. Neither of them mention Aurora once, and yet, somehow she is there in every word they exchange.

Blue and Henry are over for most of the day and talk animatedly with Gansey the entire time. Gansey looks at Ronan warily when he first enters the main room, and Ronan remembers their fight the night before all too well (“ _Why the fuck would you tell Adam not to_ break _me? First of all I don’t fucking need you to protect me, Dick. I can take care of myself, all right? I’m not a fucking child.” “I was only trying to help—“ “And second of all, Adam isn’t some goddamn awful monster that you need to automatically assume he’s going to hurt me, Jesus Christ, so maybe stop treating him like one.” “I wasn’t—“ “Fuck you, Gansey.”_ ).

Ronan greets Blue and Henry and exchanges a few words, but he leaves the trio to themselves, shutting himself up in his room. He tries not to think about his mother, tries to focus on the delirious happiness he had felt after his date with Adam the night before. He succeeds for a bit, but the grief always seeps in one way or another. Opal is by his side most of the time, leaning against him in silent comfort when she can tell he is upset. He had run the name by her last night – explaining the concept of names first and foremost – and was glad that she accepted it. 

Blue, Gansey, and Henry eventually decide to go out for gelato. They invite him but he shakes his head, knowing that Adam will be coming over soon.

Opal sits with him on the Monmouth couch, being a nuisance as usual. Suddenly, she stands up and runs to the door, reaching it just as there is a knock. When Adam enters, Ronan’s heart beats faster in his chest.

Opal screeches something in the dream language which neither boy can interpret, but her delight is clear when she wraps her arms around Adam. Adam smiles softly and pats her head, returning the hug for a few seconds before pulling away. 

“Hello, Orph—Opal,” He looks questioningly at Ronan at this, and Ronan nods. Opal kisses Adam’s arm and then scampers off to Ronan’s room. 

Adam watches her bang the bedroom door and walks over to the couch. He’s still wearing his work coveralls, but they’re rolled down to his waist, and he has a threadbare white t-shirt on underneath.

He immediately slumps onto the couch with a weary sigh and then lays his head in Ronan’s lap, pulling his legs up across the couch. He’s on his side, faced away from Ronan, his face smushed on Ronan’s thighs, right above his knees.

Ronan freezes. He can feel his ears turn pink. His hands sit uselessly at his sides, aching to touch.

Adam doesn’t seem like he’s going to say anything, so Ronan says, his voice gruff, “Well good afternoon to you too, Parrish.” 

Adam smiles against Ronan’s jeans. “Shut up, Lynch.”

Ronan huffs. “You’re being pretty fucking rude to someone who is allowing you to use him as a pillow. You could at least say hello. Jesus, where are your fucking manners?” 

Adam lets out an exasperated breath and rolls over on his back. Ronan swallows. Slowly, purposefully, Adam takes Ronan’s hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. He doesn’t look away from Ronan’s eyes, and Ronan feels the heat rise to his face, feels his pulse starting to race. 

Adam smiles crookedly. “That enough of a hello for you, Lynch?”

Ronan nods, unable to speak. Adam then kisses Ronan’s wrist, and then holds it to his chest. His fingers move back and forth on his wrist, and then he raises his eyebrows.

“Your pulse is racing,” Adam points out, his voice sleepy but smug.

Ronan glares at him. “Shut the fuck up, Parrish.”

Adam laughs, and the sound is rich and warm and Ronan wants to hear it for the rest of his life and then have it play at his funeral. “Now who’s being rude?”

Ronan keeps glaring, trying to cover up his embarrassment. It probably isn’t working. Adam is all too aware of the effect he’s having on him.

He reaches his hand up to touch Ronan’s face, run his thumb over his cheekbone. Ronan forgets to breathe. “So where’s Gansey?”

Ronan’s voice is higher than usual when he answers, “Out for gelato with Sargent and Cheng. They should be back soon.” 

“Hmm,” Adam says, seemingly uninterested by this information. He sighs again and drags his hand down his face. “Fuck. I’m so goddamn tired.”

Ronan runs his fingers through the hair on Adam’s forehead. “Long day at work?”

“Yeah. I need a nap.”

Ronan strokes Adam’s cheek, and Adam leans into his hand. “Go the fuck to sleep, then, Parrish.”

Adam rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. He turns on his side again, the back of his head facing Ronan, and curls his hands into his chest. His eyes flutter shut.

Ronan tentatively runs a hand through Adam’s soft, dusty hair, and Adam lets out a content sound. He wants to kiss Adam, properly kiss him, but he’s missed his chance now that he’s almost asleep. A minute later, he’s properly asleep, his breathing steady.

Ronan doesn’t know how long he sits on the couch, staring at Adam’s sleeping form, gently brushing through his hair, admiring his freckles, but soon he hears the door to Monmouth open and then Gansey, Blue, and Henry are staring at the two boys, one awake and one still sleeping like the dead, his mouth parted, even faintly snoring.

Ronan’s hand stills in Adam’s hair. 

Gansey clears his throat. “Ah. Adam’s here.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Ronan whispers furiously, hoping his face isn’t as flushed as it feels. “Don’t be so fucking loud, he’s sleeping.”

Blue’s eyebrows raise up to her hairline. “We can see that.” Ronan can tell she’s trying hard not to smile, and he flips her off. She stops trying and then she’s grinning from ear to ear. 

Ronan doesn’t think that Henry knew about him and Adam until now, but he doesn’t look particularly surprised. There is a slight smugness to his face, though. 

Suddenly, Opal comes out of Ronan’s room, slamming the door behind her. Adam startles awake. “Ronan, what—“ Adam starts, his voice dry and sleep addled, but then he notices the trio standing a few feet in front of him, and he jumps up from Ronan’s lap as if he’s on fire. Which, from how red his face suddenly is, he actually might be.

He clears his throat. “Uh, hey guys,” he says, attempting nonchalance. 

Blue is smirking. “Hey yourself. You didn’t have to get up, you know. You looked so comfortable.”

Adam flushes deeper. Opal is then in front of them, and Ronan notices, horrifyingly, that she has a few of Adam’s flowers in her hands. She isn’t chewing on them, for once.

Gansey notices them, and being Gansey, he says, “Ah. Opal is eating more of Adam’s flowers.”

Henry narrows his eyes. “ _Adam’s_ flowers?”

“Yes, the flowers Adam sent Ronan before their date—“

“Oh my god, Gansey, shut up,” Adam says, mortified, and then Blue and Henry are wearing matching looks of glee.

“Damn, Lynch. He sent you _flowers_? I want me a man like that,” Henry says.

Ronan, also red-faced, snarls, “Fuck off, Cheng,” but his embarrassment makes it a lot less menacing than he intended.

“Don’t feel special, Ronan,” Blue says in a serious tone. “He sent me flowers, too.” She gives the flowers in Opal’s hands an appraising look. “Though, the ones he sent me weren’t nearly as nice, so maybe you can feel a little special.”

Adam groans, covering his face with his hands. “Are you all done now?”

“Oh, we’ll never be done,” Blue assures him. “But relax. I’m glad you two idiots worked things out.”

“Hey, woah, back up for a minute,” Henry said. “Parrish sent Sargent flowers, too? You two dated?” 

Adam and Blue exchanged a look. They both shrugged.

“Jesus. Did Gansey and Lynch date too?”

Ronan throws a pillow at Henry’s head, which he dodges.

Soon, they’re all sitting down and Gansey is putting on a movie.

Adam shifts so he’s up against Ronan’s side, and he leans his head on Ronan’s shoulder. Ronan’s arm slowly wraps around Adam’s shoulders, and Blue and Gansey exchange a look where they’re sitting on the floor.

Opal soon comes to sit on Adam’s other side and puts her head on his lap. He smiles down at her and strokes her unruly hair.

Later, Ronan drops Adam off at St. Agnes. Adam sits in the passenger seat, fiddling with his hands, not getting out.

“I want to go to the Barns,” Ronan says into the silence, his voice rough. “I haven’t, since… I don’t know how to…” He swallows. 

Adam looks at him and puts a hand over his, squeezing it. “Do you want me to come with you?” 

Ronan nods. It isn’t even a question. “Not yet, though. Maybe—maybe in a few days.” 

He misses it. He misses it a lot, and he knows Opal misses it too – she hates Monmouth. But now all he can see is his mother’s blood that stained the living room. He doesn’t know if it’s still there.

Adam leans over and kisses him, softly. It occurs to Ronan that they haven’t kissed properly today until now. Adam brings both hands to Ronan’s face, leans their foreheads together.

“See you tomorrow?” Adam whispers. It’s not too late, but Adam has a night shift, and Ronan isn’t sure if Gansey can handle Opal for extended amounts of time, yet. Though, because of being in his dreams for years and the horrors she has seen, Opal is a lot more capable than most kids her age – or, what looks to be her age. Ronan still isn’t sure how old she is, but she looks to be around seven or eight. He knows that she isn’t the type of child that needs to be looked after every minute of every day. The only thing she’s really in danger of when left alone for a bit is eating everything in sight. Still, Ronan is hesitant to leave her alone for the time being. Maybe it’s the lingering fear of everything that has happened.

Ronan sighs, pulling back. “Tomorrow, loser.”

 

*

 

On Sunday, the five of them go to Fox Way. Though Blue had told them most of the relevant information, Adam and Ronan haven’t talked to the psychics themselves. Neither has Henry. Gansey, however, has been to the house several times in the past few days. Ronan also wants to hear exactly what happened to Noah again, even though Blue had told him indignantly that she didn’t leave anything out.

Adam first talks to Calla privately, and there’s something sad about his eyes when he comes back. He sits next to Ronan on the couch, close enough that their shoulders and hips and legs are touching. Ronan’s skin feels like it’s on fire, but he quells the flames for the time being as he studies Adam’s frown. 

“You alright?” Ronan asks softly.

Adam shakes his head. His eyes are shiny. “I just—we just… We talked about Persephone. How she helped me when—“ He breaks off, his lip trembling slightly. Ronan takes Adam’s hands in his, rubs his thumbs over the backs soothingly. Adam leans his head on Ronan’s shoulder. Ronan wants to place a kiss on top of Adam’s head, but he doesn’t think he’s ready to be quite that open in front of the others.

Gansey, on the other side of Ronan, watches all this from the corner of his eye while pretending that he doesn’t notice them, his expression flustered. Henry watches without any pretense from the chair to the left of them.

Calla walks into the room with Blue on her heels. She raises an eyebrow at Ronan and Adam, but neither of them move from their position. Ronan meets her eyes challengingly.

She sighs. “Just don’t make out on my couch. It was traumatizing enough catching Blue and the Pretty One necking here two days ago.”

Gansey and Blue turn bright red at the words, and Ronan grins at Gansey. “Such lascivious behavior, Dick.”

Before Gansey can retort, Calla says, “Snake. You wanted to hear about your ghost friend.”

“I already told you guys everything,” Blue says in exasperation.

“Well I want to hear it again,” Ronan snaps. 

Calla sits down across from them. She tells the tale, and it is indeed everything Blue had already told them. Still, hearing it again makes Ronan’s chest tighten. After Calla finishes, there is a pause. She turns a considering gaze on Ronan. He meets her eyes.

“I saw Noah’s memories, you know,” Calla says. “And, in addition to getting to witness yet another scarring makeout session, this time between Blue and the ghost boy, there were a lot of memories of you. They were brighter, louder, than many others. Important to him. I wouldn’t have known you were capable of kindness if I hadn’t seen it through his eyes.”

Ronan doesn’t say anything, just nods as Calla walks back into the kitchen, calling for Maura. Loss rips through him, sharply, and suddenly he feels like can’t breathe. His mom, his dad, Noah, Gansey, Adam’s hands, _unmade_ —

“Hey,” Adam says, voice low, his arm suddenly around Ronan’s shoulders, his free hand clutching Ronan’s tightly. “Hey. Ronan. You’re okay.” 

Something inside Ronan calms. He closes his eyes.

He feels a hand on his arm, and when he opens his eyes, Blue is sitting on the arm of the couch next to him. Her eyes are shining, and a tear manages to leak out. 

Ronan breathes in and out, blinking back tears of his own, then asks, “Where’s Opal?” 

Blue wipes her eyes. “I think—she’s with Gwenllian in the backyard. Last I checked, they were both climbing the tree.”

“Climbing it or eating it?” Adam asks. 

Ronan snorts. “Knowing the urchin, probably both.”

Gansey clears his throat. “Jane. What was Calla saying about you kissing Noah?”

Adam’s head turns sharply towards Blue. Ronan could personally care less about Blue’s various makeout sessions, but he too raises his eyebrow at her.

She’s bright red under the scrutiny. “Uh, well, I thought I wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever, so, he offered since I couldn’t kill him, and—It was before we were together, Gansey. When you guys were in D.C.”

Adam furrowed his brows. “ _We_ were together, then.” Ronan detects hurt in his tone. 

Blue shrugs guiltily, not meeting Adam’s eyes.

Adam opens his mouth, then closes it again. He shrugs, too. “Whatever. Guess it doesn’t matter anymore, anyways.” 

Gansey says, smiling, “I guess I wasn’t your first kiss after all, Jane.” 

Ronan smirks at Blue. “So, maggot, tell me, who’s the better kisser? Czerny or Gansey?”

Blue glares at him. Henry chimes in, “Definitely the ghost. First of all, you’re kissing a ghost, which is infinitely cooler than kissing a living person. And you always have a special place in your heart for your first kiss.”

Blue laughs, though her face is still a little pink. “Really? Who do you have a special place in your heart for, Henry?”

Henry lets out an exaggerated dreamy sigh. “Her name was Victoria. She had red hair and insulted me all the time. Apparently the pigtail pulling thing is not a myth, my friends.”

“Oh, I know that,” Gansey says. “I saw it firsthand with Ronan and Adam.” 

Ronan and Adam both flush. Blue lets out another laugh. “It was embarrassing enough when I met you guys. I can’t imagine how bad it was before that.”

Adam says wryly, “It was pretty bad. Lynch insulted me like every five seconds.”

“Well,” Henry says somberly, “It just means he really liked you. Every time he called you a loser, he was probably thinking,” – Henry’s voice goes high and swooning after this, with an exaggerated Southern accent – “‘ _Oh, Adam, just kiss me already Adam, I can’t take it anymore._ ’ Trust me, Parrish. Victoria did the same thing.”

Blue and Gansey are cackling so hard that they nearly fall over, and Adam has his head in his hands, quietly shaking with laughter, though his ears are bright red.

Ronan glares at all of them, but his extremely red face lessens the effect. “You’re all assholes.”

“And you’re the worst flirt I’ve ever met,” Blue retorted.

“Oh, come on. At least I didn’t call Parrish a prostitute.” He turns his gaze on Gansey. Before Gansey can reply indignantly, Ronan continues, “Besides, I can’t be that bad. It _worked_ , didn’t it?” He raises his eyebrows at Adam. 

Adam scoffs. “Trust me, Lynch, you being a complete asshole to me is not the reason I’m with you right now.”

Ronan wants to ask _Why are you here, then?_ But he puts the question away for when they’re alone. 

Opal comes galloping into the room, Calla behind her. Calla looks significantly less pleased than before, and she didn’t look very pleased to begin with. “Alright, bonding time with your boys is over. Please get out of my house. And take the brat with you. She tried to eat the kitchen table.” 

Blue, Henry, and Gansey go back to Monmouth, and Ronan, Adam, and Opal drive to St. Agnes in the BMW.

“You coming up?” Adam asks once they were outside the church. The sun is just starting to descend, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange.

Ronan taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “You busy right now?”

Adam shrugs. “Just going to study, probably.” 

Ronan nods. He doesn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved that Opal will be with them in Adam’s tiny apartment. Her presence assures that the two boys can’t cross any unspoken lines. Not that he thinks they would have otherwise, not yet. Still, just the prospect of being alone with Adam in his apartment is enough to turn the possibilities into a suffocating weight, stealing the air from both boys’ lungs.

When they’re inside the apartment, Adam collapses on his shitty mattress and Opal immediately scampers to his side, looking over his shoulder at the book he’s reading for school. Ronan stands on the other side of the bed for a few moments, just looking at Adam and Opal, both of their expressions soft.

Adam raises an eyebrow at Ronan. “What are you standing there for, Lynch? Get over here.” He pats the spot next to him.

Ronan sits next to Adam, and if it was a tight fit with just the two of them, it’s definitely a tight fit with the three of them. They make it work, though, all three of them pressed together. Opal is asleep in less than a minute, her sleeping schedule erratic and irregular yet. Ronan will have to fix that.

Ronan puts his arm around Adam, and Adam smiles at him. Ronan’s heart feels like it’s overflowing.

Adam closes his book and looks at Ronan, pursing his lips. “You okay? After everything today…” 

Ronan swallows, nods. “Yeah, I—I think I am. Or, I will be.”

Adam kisses him softly, and Ronan melts against him. His free hand comes up to cup Adam’s cheek. 

“Hey,” Adam whispers. “If you need anything, just—“

Ronan cuts him off with another kiss. He pulls back and exhales shakily. “I know, Adam. I know.” 

“Good,” Adam says, his voice fierce, now. “Because I mean it. I’m here.” 

Ronan kisses him again, slightly harder his time. Adam makes a soft noise against his mouth, and Ronan’s hands tangle in Adam’s hair. Ronan pulls back slightly, hesitating, then kisses the corner of Adam’s mouth, his chin, his jaw.

Adam sighs and tilts his head back, exposing his throat. Ronan trails gentle kisses down his neck, and Adam’s short, panting breaths make something inside Ronan thrill. When his lips reach Adam’s collarbone, Adam’s hands come to clutch at Ronan’s head, his nails digging into his scalp. Ronan groans against Adam’s skin, and Adam gasps as Ronan’s teeth lightly scrape the skin above his collarbone.

When Ronan’s tongue licks at Adam’s throat, Adam lets go of his head and pants, “Wait, wait—“

Ronan pulls back immediately, eyes wide. “I—Sorry, I didn’t—“

Adam shakes his head, breathing hard. “No, it’s fine, I just—Opal.” 

They both pull away and stare at Opal’s sleeping form. Ronan tries to get his breathing and heartbeat under control. “Right. Yeah.” 

Adam goes back to his work, and Ronan switches between staring at the ceiling and staring at Adam.

After half an hour of this, Adam turns an exasperated look on Ronan. “Stop that, Lynch.” 

“Stop what?”

“You keep staring at me.”

“So?” Ronan retorts, refusing to feel self conscious. This is allowed now.

“ _So_ , I need to study and it’s fucking distracting.”

Ronan raises an eyebrow. “Me looking at you is distracting?”

Adam scoffs, his ears turning pink. “When you’re looking at me like _that_ , yes it is.” 

Ronan snorts. “Whatever, loser.” He realizes his mistake as soon as the words leave his mouth. 

Adam’s lips upturn into an amused grin. “Are you thinking about how much you want me to _just kiss you already because you can’t take it anymore?_ ” 

Ronan groans loudly. “I’m going to kill Cheng.”

“Hey, don’t hurt Cheng just because he exposed your secret. You know, I should have counted all the times you insulted me, since every time you did you were apparently just thinking about how attractive I am,” Adam teased.

“Fuck you, Parrish,” Ronan says, but his mouth quirks. 

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

Ronan clenches his jaw, and after a moment grits out, “Not _every time_ , Parrish. Just… most of the times.”

Adam lets out a laugh and kisses Ronan’s flushed cheek, which just makes him flush harder. And then Adam is just staring at him with a soft, fond smile that makes Ronan’s heart hurt.

Ronan glares at Adam. “What?” He snaps, but there’s no heat in it. 

Adam smiles a little wider, and traces Ronan’s cheekbone with his fingers. His voice is quiet, awed, when he says, “You really like me a lot, don’t you?” He says it as if he’s just now discovered this fact. 

Ronan huffs, looking away. “Great job, Einstein. You just now figuring this out?” What he would have said if he was saying the whole truth is, _that’s the fucking understatement of the century, Parrish._  

Adam keeps looking at him, and when Ronan turns back, there is something in his expression that Ronan can’t identify.

After a few agonizing moments of Adam not saying anything, Ronan asks again, a little defensive, “ _What_ , Parrish?”

Adam inhales. “I just—it’s nice. This is—you liking me, and—and _us_ , it’s—“ He breaks off, takes another breath, takes Ronan’s hand in his. “This is really—nice.”

Ronan doesn’t say anything, but if he had said the whole truth, he would have said, _that’s the fucking understatement of the century, Parrish_.

Because this isn’t just _nice._ This – Adam close to him, Adam smiling at him, Adam kissing him, _Adam, Adam, Adam_ – this is home, this is safety, this is the light he was snatching at in the demon’s darkness, this is _everything_.

But because Ronan cannot say that, he just puts his arm around Adam again and kisses the top of Adam’s head. Adam leans into him, sighing softly, closing his eyes, and Ronan kisses the side of his head, the top of his ear, his temple, his eyelid. Adam lets out a shaky breath.

“Ronan,” Adam protests weakly. “I was supposed to study.” 

Ronan shrugs. “Not my fault you can’t keep your hands off me, Parrish.”

Adam rolls his eyes. He’s silent for a while, and then he lets out a laugh. “You know, I can’t believe Blue’s first kiss was _Noah_.”

“Well, nothing like making out with a ghost to make for a great first kiss story, right?”

Adam snorts, then gives him a considering look. Casually, he asks, “What about you?” 

“What about me?”

“What’s your first kiss story?”

Ronan flushes down to his neck. “As if you don’t know, Parrish,” he mutters, not looking at him.

“Really, tell me.”

When Ronan glances at Adam, he’s looking down, trying to hide his smile. Ronan bumps his shoulder against Adam’s, glaring at him. “Asshole.”

Adam looks up and grins. “So? Was it a satisfactory first kiss? Everything you dreamed of?” 

And because Ronan can’t lie, he says, his voice entirely too earnest, “Yeah, it was.” Adam’s breath catches. Ronan clears his throat. “Not as cool as kissing a ghost, though, I guess.”

“Uh huh.” 

“Your turn, Parrish. That obviously wasn’t _your_ first.” He winces. “Wait, never mind, maybe I don’t want to know.”

Adam shrugs. “I was thirteen. Some girl from my school. It was nothin’ special.”

Ronan makes a vague noise at that. He wonders how many other people Adam has kissed. If he’s done more than kiss.

Casually, he asks, “So, that it?” 

Adam furrows his brows. “What?” 

“I mean, anyone else that you’ve…” He looks down at his hands, trying to feign disinterest. Adam isn’t fooled, and his eyebrows go up to his hairline. 

“Yeah, ‘course,” Adam replies easily, as if it’s obvious. Though, it probably should be obvious, because it’s _Adam_. Then Adam winces and looks at Ronan apologetically. “I didn’t mean—“ 

“I know what you meant,” Ronan grumbles. “I get it, Parrish, you’re a fucking player, don’t need to brag about it.”

Adam snorts. “Hardly. There—there’s just been a few other girls. I didn’t actually _date_ any of them, I don’t think, it was just… we just…” Casual makeouts. Maybe more than making out. Right. Ronan seriously regrets asking. “Anyways, the last time was the summer before I started Aglionby. Didn’t really get much of a chance after that, with all the studying and Welsh king hunts and everything.”

“Hmm,” Ronan replies, unable to say anything else. There’s a question rolling around in his mouth, begging to be let out, but he keeps it in. 

Adam looks at Ronan nervously, tentative. “I—uh.” He clears his throat. “You—you’re the first boy, though.” And there’s the answer.

“Oh,” Ronan says, his heart in his throat. He doesn’t ask anything else, though he is overflowing with questions. He’s not sure he wants to know the answers anymore.

“Stop,” Adam says abruptly. 

“Stop what?”

“Whatever it is you’re thinking right now.”

“And how do you know what I’m thinking, Parrish?”

Adam just looks at him knowingly. Ronan looks away.

“Ronan,” Adam says, voice earnest. “I’m not—I’m not experimenting with you, or whatever. I told you I’m all in this, and I am. You know that, right?”

He does, mostly. But it’s still a relief to hear it. 

Adam sighs. “I’m—bisexual, I guess? I never—I mean, I guess I always knew in the back of my mind but… I didn’t really think about it extensively. I never felt the need to, until you.”

Ronan accepts this. “Okay. I get it.”

“What about you?”

Ronan shrugs. “I probably always knew, too, that I was—gay.” He stutters at the word. He wonders if he’s ever said it out loud, before. He doesn’t think so. Adam seems to realize this, and squeezes his hand. “But I didn’t—I didn’t admit to myself until a few months ago. I didn’t let myself think about it. It was… hard, for a while.”

He remembers the shame and self-loathing when it came to his sexuality all too well. The self-disgust after he dreamt about Adam. The fear that Adam would hate him, that Gansey would hate him, if they only knew. He hasn’t felt it for a long time, but the memory of it is as strong as ever.

“And now?” Adam asks gently, tone laced with concern. 

“It’s not easy, exactly, but it’s not hard, either. Not the way it used to be.”

“I’m glad.” He pauses. “You know, I always thought—“ He breaks off, gives Ronan an uneasy glance.

Ronan furrows his eyebrows. “What? Spit it out.”

“I mean, I didn’t think anything _happened_ , but, um—I always wondered, you and Kavinsky…” He trails off.

Ronan almost recoils away from him. “ _Jesus._ No, we didn’t— _fuck_ no. What the fuck, Parrish?” 

Adam reddens. “I told you I know nothing happened! It just always seemed…” He doesn’t finish the thought. 

Ronan hesitates. “I—he wanted to. I didn’t.”

“Good,” Adam mutters. “He was a prick.”

Ronan tries to recall that small bit of exhilaration and adrenaline and confused attraction he had felt around Kavinsky when they had first started racing. He can’t. All he sees now is Matthew’s terrified face and Kavinsky’s cruel smile as Ronan’s world came crashing down. All he can feel is Kavinsky’s hand, sharp as a knife, tracing his back and the feeling of helplessness when Ronan was paralyzed, unable to shake him off, still not sure what parts of that weekend were a dream and what parts were real. He has to repress a shudder.

“Besides, it was never…,” Ronan trails off. He feels his face heat up, but he says it anyways. “It was you back then, too. It was always—” He abruptly stops before he can embarrass himself further.

Adam sharply turns his head towards him, something vulnerable and wild in his eyes. Adam kisses him deeply, leaving Ronan breathless and flushed.

He looks as if he’s about to say something else, but just then Opal stirs, whining for food in bark form, and Ronan sighs.

Ronan leaves soon after, though everything in him wants to stay, wants to sleep next to Adam. Adam kisses him softly before he goes, looking like he wants to ask him to stay, too, but he doesn’t.

 

 

*

 

This thing with Adam is both exhilarating and familiar, and every moment Ronan spends with him leaves him wanting more.

Not that they get many moments alone this week. Adam works overtime, trying to make up for the few days he missed the week before. He does the same with his schoolwork, obsessively completing every missed assignment and making sure he’s caught up. The only time they really get together is during school or when they’re hanging out as a group.

Ronan finds that whatever time they do have together, Adam makes full use of it. They don’t get any opportunities for steamy makeout sessions, unfortunately, but if they’re in the same vicinity at all, Adam is always touching him.

Ronan still hates Aglionby, but he’s grateful for the time it gives him with Adam and the time it allows him to spend outside of his own head. Suffering in Math class is better than suffering alone in his bed at Monmouth, his mind automatically flashing images of his mother’s body. Opal is there with him most of the time at Monmouth, and he is grateful for that too, but it’s not enough of a distraction.

During lunch on campus, where Adam and Ronan sit across from Gansey and Henry, Adam sits so their shoulders are touching, sometimes holds his hand under the table, sometimes just puts his hand on his knee. Sometimes a little above his knee, too, and Ronan wonders if Adam knows what he’s doing to him. He does the same thing when the gang is at Nino’s.

When they hang out at Monmouth, Adam immediately puts his head on Ronan’s lap, collapsing against him just like he did that first time. Ronan sees his friends’ eyebrows go up at the same moment, but he ignores them and proceeds to run his fingers through Adam’s hair.

On Friday night, when Blue leans against Gansey’s shoulder on the Monmouth couch and presses a quick to his neck, Ronan lets out an exaggerated shudder from his place on the floor. “Gross,” he says. 

Blue narrows her eyes at Ronan. “As if you can talk. You and Adam are literally always touching and staring at each other all intensely. It’s nauseating.”

Ronan flushes and makes a pained noise in his throat, unable to come up with a response for once. Adam, who is currently sitting with his shoulder pressed to and his hand intertwined with Ronan’s, turns bright red as well and moves away from the other boy. He huffs, “We do _not_.”

Henry chimes in, “Sorry, got to agree with Wendybird here. You’ve only been together for like, what, ten days? And you’re already disgustingly sappy. I fear the future.” Gansey doesn’t say anything, but his face says enough. 

Ronan glares at the three of them. “Why don’t you assholes spend less time staring at us and get a life of your own, then? Jesus.”

Adam gets up, his face still pink. “I—uh. I’m gonna drive back. I have work soon, so…” He waves quickly to the group and Ronan follows after him. When they reach the Hondayota, both boys are unable to look at each other, still embarrassed by the comments from their friends.

Ronan clears his throat. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Adam says, shuffling his feet. He takes a deep breath, as if preparing himself for something, and then launches himself at Ronan’s lips.

Ronan’s hands immediately come up to tangle in Adam’s hair, and Adam’s own clutch desperately at Ronan’s T-shirt. The kiss is bruising, wild, frantic. Adam’s tongue licks into his mouth like it’s in a fight. Ronan can’t help the groan that escapes him, and Adam’s fingers dig into Ronan’s hips at the sound.

When Adam finally pulls back, he is the image of hunger, his face flushed and his pupils blown wide and his hair a mess. He swallows, and Ronan follows the motion.

“What—“ Ronan clears his throat so his voice is less hoarse. “What was that for?”

Adam shrugs, still breathing hard. “Haven’t had a chance to do that in a while.” 

Ronan nods. “You’ve been busy this week.” It’s been five whole days since they’ve had any time alone together. Well, technically, they hadn’t been alone on Sunday either; Opal was with them.

Ronan had considered driving to St. Agnes every night this week, wanting the comfort of Adam’s presence at night, wanting his body pressed against his. They had not slept next to each other since the night that Gansey had died, and it was the grief and trauma of everything that had happened that had made their hesitations and inhibitions irrelevant at the time. 

Now, Ronan does not know where the lines are. He is afraid of wanting too much, of being too much. 

It’s been hard, sleeping – or not sleeping – without Adam’s presence, after everything. The nightmares are worse than ever. He does not tell Adam this when he asks. He doesn’t lie, exactly. A nod of his head isn’t a lie.

Suddenly, he hears hooves clattering on the pavement, and then Opal is beside them.

“Brat, what are you doing outside?” Ronan asks, pretending to be annoyed.

“Adam is leaving,” she says, her voice accusing.

“Not my fault you were too busy trying to eat the wooden sidetable in my room to say goodbye to him.” 

Opal ignores him and turns to Adam. “Manere.” _Stay._

Adam strokes her hair gently. “I can’t. I have to go to work. But I promise I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Opal shakes her head. “Stay. With Kerah. At night.” 

Ronan freezes. “Opal—“ He starts, a warning in his voice.

“Greywaren habet tristia somnia.” _The greywaren has_ _bad dreams_. Her voice is sad.

Ronan glares at Opal, but he can’t really be angry. 

Nightmares have invaded his sleep almost every night. The first night it happened, Ronan woke up drenched in sweat, shaking, tears falling down his face. Opal had come running into his room from her bed in Noah’s old room.

She immediately sat next to him on his bed and wiped his tears with the heel of her palm. She didn’t say anything, just leaned into him and stared at him with wide eyes. 

After Ronan managed to pull himself together, he had looked at her and said, voice stern, “I’m fine, now, urchin. Go back to your room.”

Opal just shook her head and stared at him, chin up, defiant, stubborn. He glared back. Their staring contest lasted five whole minutes until Ronan finally gave up and lied back down. Opal put her head on his chest, then, a silent comfort. Ronan was glad she was there.

She came to his room every time he had a nightmare, after that. One time he asked her, “Do you ever have nightmares?”

Her expression turned fearful. She nodded, not looking at him. “I am back in the dream world. Stuck. Alone.” 

Ronan put his arm around her where she sat next to him and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She seemed surprised by the open tenderness coming from him, and she smiled at him shyly.

“Don’t worry, brat. You’re never going back there.”

Adam looks at him, now, worried. “Ronan. You’re having nightmares? You told me you were sleeping fine.”

“In case you forgot, Parrish, I’m a dreamer. Nightmares are a regular part of the routine.”

Adam sighs. “This isn’t the same, and you know it. You shouldn’t be alone when—Why didn’t you _tell_ me? I would have—you know what, I can come here after work and—“

“No. It’s fine. Seriously.”

“Ronan—“

“Parrish. Really. I’m not alone. Opal is here. And, anyways… I was thinking…” He hesitates. “I want to go to the Barns tomorrow. If—if you want come—“

“Of course. We can go in the evening when I get off work and stay the night?”

Ronan nods, and Adam kisses him, quick. He then crouches down and Opal quickly launches into his arms. When he pulls back, he tells her, “Take care of Ronan tonight for me, okay?”

Opal looks at him with something like pity. She scoffs, her meaning clear: _Who do you think I am? Of course I’ll take care of him_.

Ronan gives Adam an offended look. “I’m the adult here, Parrish, shouldn’t you be telling _me_ to take of _her_?”

“Nope,” Adam replies easily, and then he drives off.

 

*

 

Adam stops by Monmouth in the evening on his way from work the next day. Blue, Henry, and Gansey are having some debate that Ronan automatically tunes out. 

“Fucking finally,” Ronan says when Adam walks in through the door. “Parrish, save me from these fucking heathens.”

Blue glares at him. “Just because all you want to talk about is the funny animal videos you watched on YouTube yesterday—“

“Oh, Jane,” Gansey interrupts. “It doesn’t matter what conversation we’re having, Ronan would still light up like a Christmas tree at Adam’s arrival.” Henry cackles.

Ronan decides that that’s it. He gets up and walks to where Adam is standing and pulls him into a kiss. Adam is still for a moment, and Ronan panics, thinking that maybe Adam wasn’t ready to kiss in front of their friends, but then Adam responds with double the enthusiasm, his hands immediately wrapping around Ronan’s neck and bringing him closer.

He hears Blue make a gagging noise and Henry whistle, but it’s distant. All he can focus on is Adam’s lips on his.

When they pull apart, Adam’s face is bright red, but there’s a shy, pleased smile on his face. Ronan immediately flips the other three off, takes Adam’s hand, and then they’re out the door, Opal tagging along behind them. She’s buzzing with excitement, ecstatic to finally be going back to the Barns.

“So,” Adam says when they’re in the BMW. “What was the show for?”

Ronan shrugs. “Was just tired of their bullshit.” 

“To be fair, you _did_ kind of light up like a Christmas tree when you saw me.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Parrish.”

Adam laughs, and Ronan grins back.

They reach the Barns around 8 pm. The sky is dark, filled with stars. Ronan is clutching the steering wheel so tightly that he thinks he might break it.

Adam puts his hand on his cheek. “Ronan,” he says, soft.

Ronan lets go of the wheel and takes a shuddering breath. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m—I’m ready.”

Adam takes Ronan’s hand in his, brings it to his mouth.

When they are inside, a wave of grief hits Ronan like a hurricane, and his legs feel like they might give out. Adam’s hand tightens on his and Opal takes his other hand.

He takes deep breaths and stares at the couch where he had brought back his mother’s blood. He thinks he is shaking.

Adam lets go of his hand and then he’s in front of him, kissing him. Ronan kisses him back, his free hand clutching at Adam’s back like a lifeline. Ronan doesn’t realize he’s crying until Adam pulls back and wipes the single tear running down his face with his fingers. Then Adam hugs him, holding him tightly, and Ronan clutches at him desperately, burying his face into Adam’s neck, taking in his scent of gasoline and sweat and moss, using it to ground him. Opal is hugging them, too, one hand around either boy.

Ronan thinks about finding his father’s body with his head bashed in, and he thinks about what was left of his mother’s body, and he thinks about Gansey’s lifeless corpse, and Noah’s fading form, and then he thinks of the two people holding him up at the moment and how glad he is to have this new family.

When he finally pulls away, he feels ready.

 _Home, home, home_.

Ronan pulls out the dream pizza maker in the kitchen ( _“Fresh warm pizza whenever you want it, Parrish, no cooking necessary, just press the button” “Now I know why I’m with you”_ ) and the three of them eat on the dinner table. They bicker and Ronan says something ridiculous and Adam rolls his eyes and Opal asks what certain words mean and Ronan gives her obscene definitions and Adam smacks him on his arm and Ronan grins and it’s _home, home, home_.

Later, Adam sprawls on the couch, lying on his stomach, and Ronan remembers the last time they were here, just after Adam had kissed him on the porch. Ronan almost sits in the chair beside him, but then he jumps on top of Adam, obnoxiously burying his head on Adam’s shoulder blade.

Adam lets out a pained noise and tries to kick Ronan’s legs where they’re tangled with his. “Lynch, get the fuck off of me,” Adam says, but he’s laughing. 

“Nope,” Ronan replies easily. 

“You’re crushing me.”

“You can breathe, can’t you?” 

Adam grunts a muffled response, and Ronan hears a few swear words thrown in. 

After minutes in this position, Adam complains, “This is ridiculous, Ronan. At least let me turn around.”

Before Ronan can refuse that very sensible request, there is suddenly another weight on top of them as Opal throws herself on Ronan’s back, in the same position that Ronan lays on Adam.

Adam lets out another pained groan. “Opal, not you too.”

Opal shrieks something in the dream language and Ronan tells her for the thousandth time, _Latin or English, urchin._ Opal responds by kicking him with her hooves.

Ronan doesn’t know how long they lay there, a bizarre pile of boys and hooved girl, but after a while Adam says, “Okay, enough. I’m going to be sore tomorrow if you both don’t get off of me.”

Ronan and Opal reluctantly comply, and then Opal yawns. When Ronan starts to drag her upstairs, she insists that she’s not sleepy, but Ronan ignores her. He takes her to Declan’s room, Adam on his heels. 

He looks around the room, and it’s so disgustingly _Declan_. Boring, plain walls, everything neat and clean and official looking. “Well,” Ronan says. “I guess this can be your room. Don’t worry, we’ll decorate it tomorrow so it actually has some personality. Now go to sleep. 

Opal gets into bed, and Ronan strokes her hair for a bit. He tells her sternly, “If you have a nightmare, come into my room right away, got it?” 

Opal nods, and Ronan can see the relief on her face. 

Beside him, Adam frowns. “She has nightmares?” 

Ronan nods. “She’s stuck alone in the dreamscape again.” Opal shivers at the words, and Ronan quickly adds, “But it’s just a nightmare. She’s with us now. She’s never going to be alone again. We’ll keep her safe.”

Opal stills and presses her cheek into Ronan’s palm, grateful.

“We will. It’s going to be all right,” Adam whispers. Ronan gets up and walks towards the door. Adam kisses Opal’s forehead and follows him, and then they’re standing outside Ronan’s room, both unsure. 

Ronan can see that Adam is exhausted. He takes a deep breath and says, “You can—you can sleep in my room, with me. I mean, only if you want to—“

Adam cuts him off with a kiss. “Of course I want to.”

Ronan gives Adam something to wear for the night, and Adam changes in the bathroom. Ronan changes into sweatpants but takes his shirt off. Normally he would sleep in just his boxers – and he suspects Adam would too – but that would feel illicit, now.

Adam comes out of the bathroom and Ronan is momentarily taken aback by how good Adam looks in his T-shirt and pajama pants, despite them being a little too big for him. Ronan sees Adam eye his bare chest hungrily and he has to repress a smile.

Adam climbs into the bed next to Ronan, and then they’re both very aware of how alone they are in Ronan’s bedroom, on his bed, how Opal is sleeping a couple rooms away, unable to disturb them. They haven’t truly been alone like this since—well, not at all since they first kissed.

Ronan looks at him, and Adam looks back, and then they are kissing. Ronan’s hands clutch at Adam’s hips, and Adam’s hands come around Ronan’s neck, brushing over his shaved head. They are both desperate, hungry, eager, and it is clear in the way their tongues battle, the way their nails dig into each other’s skin, in the short, breathy sounds they are making against each other’s lips.

Adam breaks away for a moment, his eyes wild, and then he puts one leg on the other side of Ronan’s thighs, straddling his lap. Ronan’s eyes are wide, heat spreading through his whole body.

Adam swallows. “Is this okay?” 

Ronan nods frantically, and they’re kissing again. Adam’s hands are at Ronan’s shoulder, and then they move lower, tracing the lines of his chest, down to his navel and back up again. Ronan’s hands are at Adam’s lower back, his fingers hesitantly brushing over the skin under his shirt.

Ronan kisses down Adam’s throat, and his lips hover over his Adam’s apple. He pulls back, looks at Adam. Ronan remembers Adam’s lips on his throat during their date, though the bruises couldn’t be told apart from the ones he got from the demon. “Can I…”

Adam nods.

“Are you sure? I don’t—if you don’t want bruises on your skin…” He trails off, the implication clear.

Adam opens his mouth, closes it again, momentarily stunned. His voice is shaky when he finally whispers, “I’m sure. These—these are the good kind of bruises.”

Ronan smiles, kisses him once, and then goes back to his neck. When his teeth grazes his throat and he sucks on the skin, Adam lets out a guttural sound, his nails digging into Ronan’s back. Heat pools low inside him at the sound, and he has to work to make sure he doesn’t embarrass himself. 

Adam’s gasps get harsher, as Ronan kisses and sucks and licks lower and lower down his throat, over his collarbone.

When Ronan finally pulls back, Adam looks wrecked, multiple bruises blooming on his skin. They’re both breathing hard. Ronan rubs his thumb over the marks, fingers gentle.

Adam exhales and smiles impishly at him. “These better get covered by my shirt collars, Lynch.”

Ronan grins. “And if they aren’t?” 

“Then our friends will never let us hear the end of it.”

Ronan scoffs. “I don’t give a fuck.”

They lie down on their sides, facing each other. Ronan brings Adam’s fingers to his mouth, kissing them thoroughly. Adam is staring at him with a soft, open expression, and Ronan feels drunk with it.

“You look tired as fuck, Parrish. Go to sleep.”

Adam sighs, moves closer to Ronan so that their lips are barely a breath apart. “If you need to wake me up—“ 

“I know, I know. But… I don’t think I’ll—I think it’ll be better, with you here.”

Adam touches Ronan’s face. “Okay.”

Ronan considers for a minute, and then he turns so that his back is facing Adam.

“Little spoon, then, Lynch?” Adam asks, amused.

Ronan huffs into his pillow. “Shut the fuck up and put your arm around me, Parrish.” 

Adam laughs, but he doesn’t put his arm around Ronan. Instead, his fingers trace the dark lines of his tattoo, and Ronan shivers under the touch. He traces it all the way down to the waistband of his sweats, and Ronan’s breathing turns ragged.

Then, Adam’s arm wraps around his lower torso, his palm pressing into his chest, right above his belly button. Ronan thinks that’s the end of it, but then Adam’s mouth is on edge of his tattoo on his shoulder, and Ronan lets out a startled sound. Adam’s continues to kiss his back, across his shoulder, down his spine, his lips almost reaching the center of his back. Ronan clenches his fists and bites into a pillow to keep from letting out any embarrassing noises.

When he feels Adam’s tongue on his back, however, he can’t help the muffled moan that escapes him. He can feel Adam’s smile against his skin, and his face heats up. He is extremely glad for both the blanket over their lower bodies and the fact that he’s facing away from Adam so that the other boy can’t see the very obvious tent in his pants. He aches and wants Adam to touch him so badly, but they haven’t done much at all yet and he doesn’t know if Adam wants as much as he does.

Thankfully, Adam finally seems to be done. His arm wraps around Ronan tighter, his hand finding Ronan’s. He presses a final kiss to his shoulder blade and whispers _goodnight_ into his skin.

 

 

*

 

 

Ronan does not dream that night, but he wakes up to panicked gasps and whimpers of his name. The clock beside his bed informs him that it’s 4 am.

He turns over and sees Adam on his back, eyes squeezed shut, shaking and whimpering, tears streaming down his face. 

He sits up immediately and shakes Adam. “Parrish. _Parrish._ Adam, wake up, Jesus.”

Adam startles awake, sitting up, his face streaked with tears and his eyes wild. “Ronan, Ronan, I’m sorry, I’m so—“

Ronan takes his face in his hands, looks him in the eye. “ _Adam._ Adam, you’re awake. It was just a nightmare. You’re awake now. You’re okay.”

Ronan sees the moment that awareness hits him, and Adam pulls away from him, rubs at his eyes.

“Shit,” Adam mutters. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Ronan takes a deep breath, and glares at Adam. “I can’t believe you gave me shit for not telling you about my nightmares when you were having ones of your own. What the fuck, Parrish?”

Adam stares back at him, stubbornness in his eyes. “That isn’t the same thing, Lynch! My nightmares were about—about—“ He breaks off, swallowing. He looks down at his hands, and then more tears are falling down his cheeks. 

Ronan opens his mouth to speak, but Adam interrupts him, voice thick. “Don’t, okay? I know what you’re going to say. _It wasn’t your fault, it was the demon, I’m fine_. I fucking know that, okay? That doesn’t change what—I still can’t—“ 

His breaths turn into gasps, and Ronan doesn’t hesitate before wrapping his arms around him. Adam melts into him instantly, his head pressed into Ronan’s chest, his arms clutching at his shoulders. Sobs wrack his body, and Ronan strokes his hair, not saying anything, just holding him tightly.

Finally, after Adam’s sobs die down, Ronan whispers into Adam’s hair, “I know it’ll take time to—but I’m here, Adam. I’m right here. I’m right fucking here, okay?”

Adam breathes unsteadily and nods against him. “Okay. Okay.”

They stay like that for a while, and when they lie back down, Adam puts his head on Ronan’s chest, and Ronan holds him as tight as he possibly can. 

“We’re okay, Adam. We’re both okay,” Ronan says right before they fall asleep. Adam doesn’t reply, only presses a kiss to his chest, over his heart.

 

 

*

 

Ronan wakes up to an empty bed. He panics, for a minute, before he sees Adam standing by the window, looking at the hazy sky.

Ronan walks over to him, and Adam must be lost in his own head as he so often is, because he jumps when Ronan whispers, “Morning, Parrish” into his hearing ear. Before Adam can turn around, Ronan wraps his arms around his waist and kisses his cheek. 

Adam turns his head slightly and smiles at him. “Mornin’, Lynch.”

He looks back out the window, and Ronan presses tender kisses to the shell of his ear, the sensitive spot below it, the side of his neck. Adam sighs and leans into him, his own hands coming up to cover Ronan’s on his torso.

“You’re extra affectionate this morning,” Adam points out.

Ronan ignores him and continues kissing down his neck to his shoulder, his lips feather-light.

Adam finally turns around and looks at him, his eyes vulnerable. “Hey,” he says softly. 

Ronan kisses him, gently. “Hey.” Then he wrinkles his nose. “Your morning breath is terrible, Parrish.” 

Adam huffs a laugh and exhales right in front of Ronan’s nose in retaliation. Ronan jumps away from him and Adam grins. “Don’t be a shit. Yours isn’t so great either, you know.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Come on. Let’s go wake the urchin.”

After they get ready and wake Opal, Ronan makes pancakes while Adam tries to convince Opal that pancakes taste much better than tree bark.

Opal eventually relents. When she tastes them, she claims that they’re pretty good, but definitely not as tasty as bark. Ronan and Adam exchange a look, both of them struggling to not burst into laughter. 

Ronan drives them back to St. Agnes, waiting for his brothers to attend Sunday mass. Adam has to go to work, and Opal insists on coming with him.

“Take her if you want, Parrish, but don’t blame me if she eats one of your customers’ cars.”

Ronan watches as Adam walks to his car, holding Opal’s hand, both of them bickering and smiling at each other, and he feels that feeling again, the way he felt when he had first kissed Adam, as if he couldn’t possibly get any higher than this without flying.


	7. scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam feels his face heat up at the words, at Ronan’s penetrating gaze, and he shakes Ronan’s hands from his face, not looking at him. He doesn’t know how to respond. He has the words ready for scorn, mockery, pity. He doesn’t have the words for the worship in Ronan’s eyes, the utter affection in his quiet voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, so, the mature rating starts from this chapter. This is my first time writing anything remotely nsfw so it's probably very embarrassing and awful (and the eventual smut will be even more embarrassing and awful). This chapter is alternatively titled: Adam Parrish Is So Fucking Thirsty. It also deals with some heavy stuff so idk I hope I did alright with it? Warnings for mentions of abuse, suicide, and scars. 
> 
> (Also, I am The Worst at replying to comments and hopefully I will get to them all eventually but I really really appreciate all of them a lot!!!!!)

They’re at Nino’s when their friends finally notice. Adam is wearing his Aglionby shirt, and his collar is high enough to cover the hickeys for the most part, but when he reaches over to get a slice of pizza, two of the bruises are briefly visible.

Gansey first looks ill at the sight of them. “Adam, did someone…?” He starts, but then realization dawns on him. His cheeks turn pink and he clears his throat. “Nevermind.”

Blue and Henry’s gazes then find the hickeys as well. Adam flushes, hastily trying to cover them up.

“Jesus,” Blue says. “He really sucked you like a leech, Adam.” She almost sounds impressed.

Adam just turns redder. Ronan, for his part, looks completely unashamed, even smirks slightly.

Opal, who is sitting next to Adam, looks at them with a confused expression. “What does that mean?”

At that, Ronan finally has the decency to look embarrassed. “Nothing you need to worry about, brat.” He turns his glare on the others. “Don’t talk of such inappropriate things in front of Opal.”

Henry grins. “Such a responsible father, Lynch.”

“Fucking right I am,” Ronan mutters. 

Adam gives him a look. “Ronan, you taught her every swear word in the English language yesterday.”  

“Exactly,” Ronan says, as if that’s the end of the debate and he’s just won.

Adam opens his mouth to retort, then just shakes his head in exasperation.

 

*

 

They still don’t get much time alone during the week. Now that he’s gotten past the initial hurdle, Ronan spends most of his time after school at the Barns, even spending most nights there, and Adam can’t go back and forth like that on weekdays because of work and because he actually cares about being on time for school.

The couple nights Ronan is at Monmouth, though, Adam stays with him. They don’t do anything but make out, fully clothed, and sleep wrapped up in each other, though Adam is constantly starving for more. 

When Ronan wakes up from a nightmare of his mother’s corpse, Adam holds him just like Ronan had held him that night at the Barns, holds him until he stops shaking, whispers to him that he’s here. Opal comes running in as she often does, and the three sleep on Ronan’s bed, with Opal in the middle.

They aren’t truly alone again until a week after their night at the Barns. When Adam returns from work Saturday night, Ronan is sitting outside his St. Agnes apartment.

“Parrish,” He says, eyeing Adam hungrily. The hunger is always there between the two of them, but something about it tonight seems different. More.

“Lynch,” Adam replies. When they’re inside, he asks Ronan where Opal is.

“Dropped her off at the psychics’. She’s having a sleepover with Blue and Orla. Who the fuck knows how that will go. She’ll probably come back with a yogurt and nail polish obsession.”

“Well, eating yogurt is probably better than eating bark, so maybe it’s for the best.” He pauses. “You staying the night?”

Ronan looks suddenly uncertain, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. “Do you want me to?”

Adam realizes that they are truly _alone_ for the night. Not alone in a large room in the Barns or Monmouth with Opal or Gansey feet away from them, but alone in Adam’s tiny apartment.

“Yes,” Adam says immediately, and he hopes he doesn’t sound as eager as he is. “I, uh—I’m gonna take a quick shower.”

Adam stands under the hot stream of water for longer than usual, and his mind goes to the boy in his apartment. He remembers the feeling of Ronan’s lips on his neck and his breath starts coming faster. 

Part of him feels guilty for doing this with Ronan right outside the bathroom door, but the other part is too concerned with the desire coursing through him.

It’s a little bit frightening, how much he wants Ronan. He is so attracted to him that it’s almost unbearable at times. Adam had always been a creature of want, even when he was with Blue and with every girl before. But this was different. It was a thousand times more intense than any other time he had wanted someone, because this was _Ronan_ and they had something that he’d never had with anyone else.

He is becoming a walking cliché – staring when Ronan’s t-shirt rides up as he stretches, easily being rendered breathless by the smallest of touches, his heart beating faster when Ronan mixes swear words with his name and imagining him saying them under different circumstances. He finds it hard to concentrate in school or work sometimes, as his mind wanders to fantasies of that involve loss of clothing and hands and mouths trailing lower and lower. His dreams play out those fantasies, and he wakes up aching with want, though thankfully not on any of the nights he sleeps next to Ronan.

It is a trying dilemma, and Adam doesn’t know where Ronan stands on it. He knows Ronan wants him, but he doesn’t know if the other boy is truly ready to go further. Their relationship is still new, still fragile, and considering that neither of them have done anything before, maybe they should take it slow.

Nobody ever told him how painfully difficult slow could be.

As the shower fills with steam, he thinks of the hard planes of Ronan’s chest, the way his mouth moves when he swears, his wild sounds when Adam kisses him, his hands tangled in Adam’s hair, his scent of gasoline and leather and _Ronan,_ and then Adam is biting his fist to keep from crying out.

When Adam leaves the bathroom in a white t-shirt and gray pajama pants, drying his still damp hair, the embarrassment kicks in and he finds that he can’t quite look at Ronan.

Which is why it takes him a few moments to realize what Ronan is holding in his hand as he stands in front of Adam’s desk. 

Adam turns bright red and throws his towel at Ronan’s face.

Ronan makes a startled sound and glares at Adam. “The fuck, Parrish?” 

“What were you doing looking through my backpack?” Adam demands.

“I wasn’t looking through it, dumbass. It was half open already and _this_ “ – he holds up the toy car – “was clearly visible.”

Adam walks over to him and snatches the car from his hands, still blushing, not looking at Ronan. He can still remember the way Ronan’s eyelashes had looked in the golden light coming through the window of his bedroom as he turned the wheels of the musical car.  

“Did you take this back with you last week?” 

Adam nods, still staring at the ground.

Ronan cups his face, forcing him to look at him, and there’s a smug grin on his face, but there is also something earnest and joyous in his eyes. “Parrish, you sentimental asshole.”

“Shut the fuck up, Lynch.” He places the car back on his desk and kisses Ronan before he can make another smug comment. 

Ronan immediately wraps his hands around Adam’s waist, and Adam runs his fingers over the soft skin on his lower back, under his black tank. He pulls back from the kiss for a moment, lifts Ronan’s tank up in the front, looks at Ronan purposefully.

Ronan stares at Adam for a long moment, breathing hard, before taking his shirt off. This is somehow different from the other times Ronan has been shirtless in front of him since they got together; the first time, it was under the guise of wanting to see Ronan’s tattoo. The other times, Ronan already had his shirt off for one reason or another. 

Now, they are taking clothes off with purpose, and Adam _wants_ so badly it’s almost a physical ache. Adam takes a moment to admire Ronan’s naked chest, and then he pulls him close so they are kissing again, bodies flush together. Adam trails wet kisses down Ronan’s jaw, his neck, his shoulder. Ronan’s breathy gasps are driving Adam wild, and feeling bold, his hands move from Ronan’s lower back to his ass and he bites into the skin on Ronan’s shoulder. Ronan lets out a startled groan, and they’re walking backwards to the mattress. 

They half stumble onto the mattress, and adjust themselves so Ronan’s head is comfortably on the pillow and Adam is on top of him. They kiss heatedly, Ronan’s hands gripping Adam’s hair, Adam’s exploring every inch of Ronan’s chest.

He kisses Ronan’s collarbone, then, hesitating, goes lower on his chest. When his tongue flicks over Ronan’s nipple, the other boy clutches Adam’s hair almost painfully and swears, voice thick, “Fuck, _fuck_.” 

Adam attacks Ronan’s mouth again, sloppily; there is nothing graceful about their kisses, now. It is all hunger; it’s desperate tongues and hot breaths and swallowed moans. Adam bites down on Ronan’s lower lip, and Ronan lets out a keening sound and arches into him.

Ronan’s hands travel down Adam’s back and slip under his t-shirt, trying to lift it up.

Adam suddenly tenses and breaks away, panicking. “Wait, don’t—“ He gasps, sitting up on his knees.

Ronan sits up too, eyes wide. “Shit, I—I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

Adam shakes his head. “It’s fine, you’re fine. _I’m_ sorry, I don’t know why I’m—“ 

“Don’t apologize, Parrish.” Ronan pushes Adam’s damp hair from his eyes, hand on his cheek.

Adam swallows, trying to get his breathing under control. “You can, if you want. I just—need a minute.”

Ronan frowns. “Parrish, it’s fine, you don’t have to take off your shirt if you don’t want—“

“I _want_ to,” Adam insists. And he does. He wants to feel Ronan’s hands on his skin, wants his gentle touch. His body craves touch as much as his lungs crave oxygen. He wants to replace every memory of fists breaking skin with Ronan’s soft hands and lips. 

But he can’t replace them; the memories of fists and beer bottles and being thrown into walls are etched onto his chest, his back, his shoulders. Every inch of him bears the scars of that broken and bruised home, even though they are faded.

It isn’t just the trailer that his body reeks of. It’s every minute spent working under the blistering Virginia sun and fixing cars, every day gone without proper nourishment and sleep. It’s in his thin, wiry frame and freckled skin, everything about him hollow and gaunt, where Ronan is muscular and full and _beautiful_.

It isn’t that Ronan hasn’t seen him shirtless before; of course he has, even though Adam tries to avoid being shirtless as much as possible. But never up close, where he was allowed to scrutinize, to examine, to study.

If he takes his shirt off, Ronan will see it, will see _him_ : Henrietta dust through and through.

Ronan is staring at him while his head spins with pros and cons and desires and fears, and then he says, softly, “Adam. Forget it. Seriously, it’s not—“

“Shut up,” Adam interrupts. He takes a deep breath and pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it on the floor.

Ronan inhales sharply. His eyes take in Adam’s bare chest, roaming over every inch that’s visible. There is something that Adam can’t identify in his expression.

A long minute goes by without Ronan saying anything, and then Adam cannot stand it. “ _What?_ ” Adam snaps, unable to keep the defensive anger out of his tone, wrapping his arms around his torso protectively.

Ronan does not react to Adam’s anger. Instead, impossibly, his expression turns even softer. He runs his fingers soothingly over the arms holding Adam’s midsection. Adam drops his arms.

Ronan cups Adam’s face in his hands and meets his eyes. Suddenly, Adam recognizes the look on his face: wonder, awe, admiration, reverence. Ronan whispers, all tenderness, “You’re beautiful.”

Adam feels his face heat up at the words, at Ronan’s penetrating gaze, and he shakes Ronan’s hands from his face, not looking at him. He doesn’t know how to respond. He has the words ready for scorn, mockery, pity. He doesn’t have the words for the worship in Ronan’s eyes, the utter affection in his quiet voice.

“Asshole,” he manages, voice thick. 

“Adam.” A hand gently lefts his chin up. Ronan kisses him on the mouth, once, then brushes his lips over the corner of his mouth, his jaw, all the way to his right ear. He whispers, voice low, “You’re so fucking beautiful, Adam.” Adam shivers at the words, at the way Ronan’s hot breath feels on his skin.

Ronan continues to trail kisses down his neck and shoulders, kisses a line down his arm until he reaches his hand. He doesn’t rush his way through it, and there is none of the hunger and urgency there was when they first started kissing. It’s all tenderness and care, Ronan making sure to kiss every inch of him that he can. He pays extra attention to his hand, looking Adam in the eyes as he kisses his palm thoroughly.

Adam wants Ronan to stop looking at him like that, to stop kissing him so gently. He wants to go back to the heated kissing of before. That he could handle. That he knew how to deal with. That was the constant hunger that Adam was used to.

This, he does not know what to do with. 

Adam doesn’t realize that he’s crying until Ronan suddenly stops kissing his hand and wipes the tears on his cheek with his thumb, again with the same gentleness.

Adam blinks, turns his face away, digs the heels of his palm into his eyes. “Sorry. Fuck, I’m—sorry.” He feels ridiculous. He feels like he’s overflowing, like his body is too small and too broken to hold this emotion inside him. 

“Adam.” Adam shakes his head, unable to look at Ronan. “ _Adam_. Hey. Look at me.” 

Adam breathes deeply and removes his hands from his eyes. It’s still there, that adoring expression on Ronan’s face. Maybe it’s always there when he looks at Adam. But it’s too strong now, too blinding. Adam is still crying. Ronan presses soft kisses to his lips, his chin, his cheekbones, his forehead, his damp eyelids, his nose, every inch of his face that he can reach.

Adam exhales shakily. As Ronan mouths under Adam’s ear, Adam says, voice watery and trembling, “If you’re trying to make me stop crying, I don’t think this is the best strategy.”

Ronan laughs lightly in his ear and pulls back. Adam manages a tiny smile, wiping at his eyes. He presses his forehead to Ronan’s shoulder, breathing in his scent. Ronan strokes the back of his head, the nape of his neck. His other hand wraps around his lower back and traces his spine. The heat of his touch leaves goosebumps in its wake. Adam closes his eyes.

“Ronan,” he murmurs against Ronan’s skin. He doesn’t have anything to add to that, though. He doesn’t know how to say it, how to express the overwhelming gratitude inside him. So he just buries his face deeper into Ronan’s neck and exhales, “Ronan.” His hands come up to clutch the back of Ronan’s head. He runs his hand through the short hairs and Ronan lets out a content sound. 

When he finally pulls back, Ronan touches the back of his hand to Adam’s cheek. Adam leans into it, and then finally gets off Ronan’s lap, settling down beside him. “You alright?”

Adam nods. “Yeah. Yeah. That was just— _you’re_ just—a lot.” 

Ronan looks hurt for a moment, and Adam wonders if he’s said something wrong. “Too much?” Ronan’s voice is careful.

It dawns on Adam then, and he shakes his head firmly. He takes Ronan’s face in his hands. “No, that’s not what I—you’re never too much, Ronan.” Ronan still looks wary, so Adam kisses him gently and says, “Ronan, you’re never going to be too much. You can give me everything and it still won’t be enough. I’m greedy, remember?”

Ronan snorts. 

Adam bites his lip, takes Ronan’s hands in his. “I just… I’m not used to— _this_. I’m not used to feeling so…” He swallows, not wanting to say it, but wanting Ronan to understand. His voice goes down to a whisper. “… _wanted._ ”

Realization seems to hit Ronan, then, and he kisses Adam’s forehead.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots the toy car again. He wants Ronan to _know_ , suddenly. He needs him to know.

“At the Barns, before you kissed me in your room, I was thinking… I saw the pictures of your parents and I just kept thinking about how _different_ the Barns is from that trailer. How everything in it is wanted and magic and—and then the toy car. It reminded me…” He swallows, not wanting to recount the awful memory. He does it anyways, and watches as Ronan tenses, the way his face twists into righteous anger when he gets to his father’s words. “And then you came through the door and kissed me and it was like—like I was suddenly one of the things that belonged in the Barns. Wanted and worthy and—“ He breaks off, huffs out a self deprecating laugh. “How did you do that, Ronan? How did you make it so that I could pretend I was—“ He breaks off again, inhaling sharply, trying to keep the tears at bay.

Ronan touches the shell of Adam’s ear, almost absently. He’s looking at Adam intensely, fury radiating off of him, but not aimed at Adam. Never at Adam. “You weren’t _pretending_ anything, Parrish. You… you’re more magic than anything at the Barns, you know. You always have been.”

Adam scoffs at that. “Right. I’m not the Magician anymore, Lynch, in case you forgot. Cabeswater’s—“ His voice breaks, and he hates it. “It’s gone.”

The grief overwhelms him, for a moment, as it has in random bursts throughout the past few weeks. He feels guilty every time it does. Ronan is grieving for his mother, his father, Noah, and he’s mourning a magical forest. A magical forest that wasn’t even _his_ to begin with.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. In case _you_ forgot, you weren’t the Magician because of Cabeswater. It’s just you, Adam. You’re the one who’s magic.”

When Ronan says it like that, Adam can almost bring himself to believe it. Adam kisses takes Ronan’s hand and brings it to his mouth.

After a moment, Ronan says, almost nervously, “Hey.” Adam raises his eyebrow, questioning. “Can I…?” He lifts his hands to Adam’s chest, pausing right before they touch skin. 

“Oh,” Adam breathes. “Yeah, go ahead.” Ronan had called him beautiful, had kissed his way down his shoulder and arm, but he hadn’t touched his bare chest, yet.

Ronan takes his time. He runs his hands over Adam’s skin so slowly that Adam thinks he’s trying to memorize it. Every time he reaches a bruise or a scar, he lingers, rubbing small circles on it. Ronan knows what they are from. Adam doesn’t need to elaborate.

Ronan’s hands do not make them disappear. Flowers don’t grow in the wake of his fingers. But Ronan goes over those marks of regret and hate and fear and buries them with his touch of love and kindness, and for a small moment, their burden seems lighter. 

When his fingers lightly flick over his nipple, Adam’s breath hitches. His breaths get shorter as Ronan traces lower and lower on his torso, and he can’t help his tiny gasp when Ronan reaches the waistband of his sweatpants. He is reminded, rather inconveniently, of what he did in the shower, and he has to clench his fists to maintain a semblance of control.

Both boys seem to have an unspoken agreement of where to stop, and after Ronan has had his fill of exploring Adam, they lie down next to each other. They don’t speak, and Adam likes the comfortable silence.

Ronan traces the lines of Adam’s hands, and as he does, Adam studies the leather bracelets on Ronan’s wrists.

Adam runs his fingers over the chewed up leather hesitantly. “Can I take these off?”

Ronan stares at Adam for a long moment, then nods. 

Adam takes the bands off and places them on the plastic bin beside the bed. He turns Ronan’s wrists over and runs his fingers over the faint scars. Ronan’s expression is unreadable. 

Adam’s voice is quiet when he speaks. “You know, Gansey was so relieved when he found out that it was the night horrors that did this and not—“ He breaks off, his heart heavy with the memory of Ronan’s suicide attempt. He remembers how he had been so shocked at the time that someone like Ronan – tough, sharp-edged, an asshole – could want to die. He takes a deep breath, continues. “But… the night horrors, they—they want what you want, right?”

Ronan is silent, his gaze somewhere far away. Finally, he says, “Yeah, Parrish. They wanted what I wanted.”

He is quiet again for a while, and Adam is afraid that he has crossed a line, that Ronan didn’t want to talk about this. He’s about to apologize when Ronan speaks again. “I don’t—I don’t feel that way anymore, though. I haven’t for a while now.”

Adam had known that, but it’s still a relief to hear it. “I’m glad,” he whispers, kissing the corner of Ronan’s mouth.

They kiss for a while longer, lazy and unhurried and tender, and then they’re getting under the covers and turning off the light. Adam turns away from Ronan, and this time it’s Ronan who traces patterns on his back. Finally, Ronan wraps an arm around him and pulls him close. Adam is asleep within seconds.

 

 

*

 

 

When his eyes flutter open, he feels unusually warm and comfortable. He rolls over to look at Ronan and sees that the other boy is still asleep. Adam stares at the sharp lines of his face, peaceful for once and looking younger than normal. 

“Stop staring at me, Parrish.” 

Adam feels his face heat up as Ronan opens his eyes and raises his eyebrows. “As if you’re one to talk, Lynch.” 

Ronan smirks. “You make a fair point.” 

Adam kisses him and Ronan’s hand lazily weaves through Adam’s hair. Adam finds Ronan’s hipbone underneath the blanket and rubs circles there with his thumb, making Ronan’s breath stutter.

Adam pulls back and smiles sleepily. “Mornin’,” he says, yawning. 

Ronan wrinkles his nose. “Jesus, put some fucking mints by your bed or something. Now I _really_ know it’s morning.”

Adam rolls his eyes at him. “Real fucking romantic, Lynch.” 

“About as romantic as kissing you with that breath.”

Adam glares at him and Ronan laughs. “Relax, Parrish. I’d still kiss you every morning regardless.” 

“Lucky me,” Adam deadpans, but his face heats at the implication of Ronan’s words.

Ronan traces Adam’s mouth with his fingers. “You have work this morning?” 

“Not until the afternoon.” He moves closer to Ronan, burying his head in his chest. Ronan lets out a content sigh and kisses the top of his head. 

Adam never wants to get out of bed.


	8. thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam thinks about how Ronan has lost so much of his family and what that word means to him. He thinks about how Ronan didn’t even hesitate before calling him family, rendering Adam a part of something safe and cherished, making Adam belong. But Adam doesn’t belong there. He is not a part of the Lynch family. He did not grow up with that laughing, wild father and that wild, happy mother, in that beautiful and sheltered home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another unnecessarily long chapter. I'm not too sure about this one but I hope it's not too terrible and OOC. I wasn't totally sure how to handle Declan's reaction to Pynch because TDT vaguely implies that he might be homophobic but then.... literally never addresses it again (much like 99% of things re: sexuality in this series lmao). Also this chapter deals with more of Adam's past abuse and I hope I handled it okay?

When he gets in the Hondayota after work one day, Adam finds a mixtape on his seat. The label reads simply “A Shit Day Singalong” in Ronan’s messy handwriting. On the other side, there are no words, only this: **_:( - > :)_** 

Adam snorts and replaces the old tape in the player with this one, listening to it on the drive to St. Agnes.

The first song, predictably, is the Murder Squash Song, but every song after is something light and happy and uplifting. They sound nothing like Ronan’s usual music, and he wonders how much pride Ronan had to swallow down to ask Blue and Gansey for recommendations. The lyrics sing of joy and worth and hope, and Adam can’t keep the smile off of his face for the whole ride.

 

*

 

They’re at Monmouth one late November day when Blue casually brings it up. 

“So, you and Ronan.” 

Adam looks up from where he’s doing his homework on the floor. Blue is sprawled across the couch, leaning her head on the armrest, looking at Adam with a scrutinizing expression. Ronan and Gansey are out getting orange juice and candy, so it’s just the two of them for a little bit. Well, and Chainsaw, who is currently perched on Adam’s shoulder, periodically nuzzling his neck.

“What about me and Ronan?” Adam considers, belatedly, that he and Blue haven’t really talked about it. They haven’t spent much time together recently that wasn’t hanging out with the whole gang. It’s mostly been him and Ronan, and then Gansey and Blue and Henry separately. Adam realizes that he misses Blue.

“How is that going? We haven’t had a chance to talk.” 

Adam automatically finds himself smiling when he thinks about him and Ronan and, mortified, he tries to school his expression into something neutral. Blue notices, though, and she grins. 

“Ah, so it’s going well.”

Adam flushes. “Yeah, it’s… it’s really good.”

“ _Really_ good, huh?”

“Shut up, Blue.” 

Blue laughs and knocks her ankle on Adam’s shoulder. “Seriously, though, it must be… something. You bought him _flowers_.” 

“That wasn’t—it was a joke. Well, sort of. And I bought _you_ flowers too.”

“Yes, but I’m me, and he’s Ronan. You bought _Ronan Lynch_ flowers, Adam.” 

Adam huffs. “I’m very aware.” Then, “Why are you so curious?” 

Blue shrugs. “Because it’s _Ronan_. I’m just wondering what it’s like. I don’t really know him that well, after all.” Adam thinks she sounds a little sad and wistful.

“Blue, he’s one of your best friends, too.”

Blue sighs, reflective. “I know, and I _still_ don’t know him that well. Not like I know Gansey and you and Henry and… like I knew Noah.”

Adam studies her and remembers how she wanted to be treated like a real friend, how she wanted desperately to be a part of their world, to _belong_. As much as Blue pretends that Ronan is nothing but an annoyance to her, Adam knows that she cares about him. And he thinks about how Ronan seems off limits to most of the world, how he doesn’t let many people in, even shutting out his friends at times. Blue and Ronan are closer than they used to be, but maybe not as close as Blue would like them to be.

“You know, if you want to spend more time with him, you could just _ask_ him.”

Blue turns a little pink and scoffs. “That’s not—I never said that.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “Right.”

Blue crosses her arms and stares menacingly at the ceiling. The expression reminds Adam a lot of Ronan. He goes back to reading his book, knowing she’d speak when she was ready.

“It’s just,” Blue says after a few minutes, frustration clear in his voice, “He randomly came to me right after you guys kissed for the first time, and I still don’t know why. And that’s pretty much the only real conversation I’ve had with him, like, ever.”

“So you _do_ want to hang out with him more.”

Blue glares at Adam. “If you keep spreading such lies, I’m going to tell Gwenllian to sing songs about you and Ronan being married the next time you’re at Fox Way.”

Adam blanches. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would. Gwenllian is very useful when she’s not being a complete nuisance.”

“You’re the worst.” 

Blue just smiles smugly.

Adam had forgotten that Ronan had gone to Blue after their first kiss. Despite himself, Adam feels a burning curiosity about what Ronan had said.

“So,” Adam says, casually. “How did that post-kiss conversation with you and Ronan go, anyways?”

Blue isn’t fooled. “What is this, elementary school? You want to know what Ronan said about you and if he _like_ likes you?” Her tone is mocking and amused.

Adam’s face feels hot. “Shut up.”

Blue cackles, sounding alarmingly like Gwenllian for a moment. “He was really freaked out and nervous, actually. It was weirdly adorable.”

Adam feels something warm and fluttery in his stomach from the knowledge that he could make Ronan Lynch nervous. He doesn’t even try to hide his smile this time. Chainsaw jumps from his shoulder onto his lap and Adam strokes her feathers affectionately.

Before either of them can say anything else, the door to Monmouth opens, and Ronan and Gansey walk in. 

Ronan’s gaze immediately goes to Adam petting Chainsaw, who is gently pecking his chest in return, and he smiles softly. Adam notices and smiles back.

Blue takes one look between the two boys and makes a retching noise. Ronan flips her off and moves to sit next to Adam, putting an arm around him.

“Chainsaw, come here,” Ronan orders. Chainsaw squawks at him defiantly and burrows closer to Adam. 

Adam grins triumphantly. “She likes me better.” 

“So does Opal,” Blue adds. “Almost like all of Ronan’s dream things are infatuated with Adam. I wonder why.”

Ronan turns red and glares at Blue. “Fuck off, Sargent. Besides, Opal isn’t my dream thing. She existed before me.” He pauses. “Speaking of, I need you to babysit her tomorrow, I have to—“ 

“Of course,” Blue snaps heatedly. “Because I’m just there as a babysitter or someone to give advice, that’s all.” 

“Yeah,” Ronan agrees. “How else are you of use to me?”

Blue is shaking at this point. “Right. I’m just something for you to use when you need and then toss in the trash when you’re done and you’ll go along your merry way. And Adam and Gansey and everyone else will be right behind you. You’re all assholes.” And then she gets up and walks angrily to the door. 

“Jane, what did I do?” Gansey asks, confused, but Blue is already out the door, banging it behind her.

Ronan stares after her, baffled. “The fuck is her problem?” 

Gansey gets up to go after her, but Adam shakes his head. “I’ll go.” He turns to Ronan and hisses, “You didn’t have to be such a dick, you know.” 

“How is this my fault? I was just joking around, Jesus.”

Adam just lets out an exasperated noise and gets up to go after Blue. 

She’s sitting outside the door, knees up to her chest. Adam sits down next to her, shoulder pressed lightly to hers.

“Blue,” Adam says gently.

“Oh, don’t use that pitying tone with me. And don’t bother apologizing for him,” Blue snaps.

“I’m not. I’m here to ask what this is really about.”

Blue sighs and tightens the arms around her knees. “It’s just—“ She bites her lip. “Orla was saying the same old stuff again. About how—how I’m just temporary. How you’re all going to leave me behind. And I’ll be stuck here.” 

“That’s not going to happen,” Adam assures her.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Blue retorts. “You’re going to go to some fancy college and Gansey and Henry will, too. Ronan might stay at the Barns but he hardly hangs out with me as it is, so I’m not counting on him for company.”

“Blue, after everything you’ve survived, nothing’s going to stop you from getting out of here. You’ll find a way. I’ll help you, if you want me to. So will Gansey. He’d never leave you behind. None of us would.”

“You can’t say that for sure.”

“I can,” Adam insists. “And you can ask the others later, but for my part…” He swallows, emotion suddenly rising up in him. “You—you’re all the first people who’ve ever really cared about me. It doesn’t matter where I go from here. I’m not letting any of _this_ go even when I leave." 

Blue looks at him gratefully and loops an arm around him, leaning into him as a silent thank you.

“As for Ronan,” Adam continues. “He’s a shit but you know he loves you.” 

“Whatever,” Blue mutters. And that’s how he knows she’s pleased to hear that. 

“You coming inside now?”

“In a minute.”

Adam bumps his shoulder against hers and goes to the door. When he opens it, he sees Ronan standing there, and one look at his face tells him that he heard everything. 

When Blue turns her head and sees him standing there, she tenses. “You’re not supposed to eavesdrop, asshole.”

“Jesus, Sargent, I wasn’t being serious, you’re one of the seven people in the whole world I actually like, so come the fuck inside, would you?” 

Blue stares at him and Ronan stares back. They both look away at the same time, and then Blue comes inside, huffing out a _Whatever_ , _Ronan_ , and that’s that.

 

 

*

 

 

It’s three quarters of the way through November before anyone at Aglionby finds out. Adam is surprised it takes even that long, really. They aren’t exactly hiding it. They don’t make out in the hallways or anything, but, like Blue had pointed out that day, they _are_ always touching or staring: Ronan’s arm casually sling over Adam’s shoulders, bumping hands and hips as they walk, pressed up against each other when they sit for lunch, smirks and heated glances exchanged in classes.

But then, the rest of the Aglionby population’s heart doesn’t race when any of that stuff happens, so it’s probably only obvious in Adam’s head.

Ronan’s attendance at Aglionby is already becoming sporadic, and Adam knows he won’t be there much longer. He can see Gansey starting to realize this, and he hopes Ronan is ready for that conversation.

They’re sitting in Latin class, the only ones there early, as usual, when Tad Carruthers walks in, looking strangely nervous. He smiles when he sees Adam but stops short when his eyes fall on Ronan. He gulps audibly.

“Parrish. Can I have a word?”

Adam tries not to let his annoyance show on his face. “Sure. What’s up?”

Tad glances at Ronan. “Uh, I meant—like, in private?”

Adam frowns and his annoyance slips through when he asks, “Why? Look, I really have to study this list of verbs before class starts, so if you want to say something, just say it now. I doubt Lynch cares.” 

Tad looks considerably upset by Adam’s refusal, which Adam finds odd, but he winces and nods. “Alright. Okay. So—I was wondering, like… if you maybe wanted to, you know…”

Adam waits, but Tad seems to be struggling for words. “No,” Adam assures him. “I really don’t know.” 

“Do you want… maybe… shit.” He lets out an awkward laugh. “Okay. Okay. So, do you want to maybe go out sometime?”

Adam is momentarily stunned. Tad Carruthers is _asking him out?_

He can see Ronan tense in his peripheral vision.

“Um…” Adam started, unsure of how to respond. He decides to go with the direct approach. “I’m sorry, Tad, but I can’t.”

Tad’s smile falls. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Alright. That’s fine.” A pause. “Can I ask why? And don’t tell me it’s because you’re not into guys because I definitely sensed a vibe from you, and I’m never wrong.” 

Adam bristles at the assumption about his sexuality. His voice is cold when he answers, “No, you’re right, I am into guys. As well as girls. But no, I’m not interested, and I have a boyfriend.” If Adam was a nicer person, he would have skipped the ‘I’m not interested’ part and let Tad believe he would have a chance if Adam wasn’t taken. 

Then Adam freezes, heat crawling up his neck as he realizes that he just referred to Ronan Lynch his _boyfriend_. It’s the first time either of them has done so, and it absurdly feels like an important moment. When Adam chances a quick glance at Ronan, the other boy is looking at him intensely.

“Oh,” Tad says, shock evident in his tone. “Really? That’s… I didn’t know.” 

“Well, now you do.” 

“Right. Well.” Tad lets out another strangled laugh. “Any chance you guys are going to break up soon?” 

Adam knows it’s a joke, but he’s too irritated to care. “No. No chance at all.”

“Hmm,” Tad replies. Adam doesn’t know why he’s still standing there, shuffling his feet, when he asks, “So, is it anyone I know?”

Adam stiffens at that, unsure of how to answer. He certainly doesn’t want to hide his relationship with Ronan, but he doesn’t know if Ronan wants to— 

“Yeah, it’s someone you know, dipshit.”

Adam startles at Ronan’s voice behind him, sharp and challenging.

Tad’s lips form a perfect “o” shape as he looks between Adam and Ronan. “I—you’re dating _Lynch_?” His voice is disbelieving.

“Yeah, he fucking is,” Ronan says, biting.

“Yes, I am,” Adam repeats unnecessarily.

Tad clears his throat. “Oh—well—I, um—“ 

“Goodbye, Carruthers,” Ronan says, his smile threatening. If Adam didn’t know Ronan so well, he would have been frightened by that smile. 

Tad turns and walks out of the classroom without hesitation. Adam thinks there should be a dust outline of him in the air, like in those cartoons. 

Adam turns an amused expression on Ronan. “You didn’t have to terrify the poor guy, Lynch. Jesus.” 

“Yes I fucking did,” Ronan mutters.

Adam studies the tense set of Ronan’s jaw, the defensive posture. “Ronan. I can’t believe you’re jealous of Tad Carruthers.”

Ronan sputters. “I’m not _jealous_.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I wasn’t—the fuck am I supposed to do when another guy tries to ask out my… boyfriend?” Ronan looks furtively at Adam before that last word, uncertain. 

Adam grins at Ronan. “Trust that your _boyfriend_ is going to turn him down, maybe?” 

Ronan scowls. “I fucking know that, Parrish.”

“Your _boyfriend_ is especially going turn the guy down when said guy is _Tad Carruthers_. Or any Aglionby boy, really.” 

“I’m an Aglionby boy.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the exception. Besides, you won’t be an Aglionby boy for much longer.” 

Ronan grunts, still looking put out.

“Anyways,” Adam adds, all casual. “I’ll just tell anyone that asks me out in the future that I really like my boyfriend and that I’m really happy with him, so as flattered as I am, I’m going to have to pass.”

Ronan’s face is bright red, and he’s trying and failing to hide his smile. “You fucking better. Tell them that your boyfriend’s really fucking attractive too.” 

“Now, Ronan,” Adam says solemnly, “I’m okay with a lot of things, but I draw the line at such outrageous lying.”

Ronan throws a pencil at Adam, which he dodges. “Asshole.” 

Adam laughs, his hair falling in his eyes. Ronan’s gaze catches on his bright grin, and his lips slowly turn up into that unshielded, loose smile that Adam loves so much.

“Hey,” Adam says, serious now. “Are you… you’re okay with people knowing about us?” 

Ronan exhales. “Yeah, I am. Are you?”

“Yeah.” He smiles teasingly. “This means we can finally hold hands in the hallways.”

Ronan rolls his eyes. “Fucking sap. I prefer making out in the janitor’s closet.”

“Please don’t.” Adam turns his head to find Gansey walking through the doorway.

Ronan smirks. “Hey, man, would you prefer we make out on your bed instead? Just say the word.”

Adam flushes and avoids Gansey’s eyes as Gansey’s face takes on a vaguely horrified expression. “Please don’t,” He says again, and Ronan just laughs.

 

*

 

The news spreads around Aglionby at an alarming rate. By the end of the day, it seems as if the whole school knows. He sees the whispers and stares everywhere as he walks to his car after school, but he ignores them.

The gang is at Nino’s for dinner when someone finally confronts them. Adam joins them after his shift at the garage. He sits next to Ronan and quickly presses a kiss to his cheek. 

Then awareness hits him and he turns bright red. Next to him, Ronan’s eyes are wide with surprise and pink is blooming on his cheeks as well. Blue, Gansey, and Henry are all staring at the two boys with matching expressions.

Adam clears his throat. “Uh, hey, guys.” 

Henry grins. “Don’t we get a hello kiss, too, Parrish?”

“Fuck off, Cheng,” Adam mutters, trying to cover up his embarrassment. 

Soon, Ronan casually has his arm around Adam’s shoulders, and Adam puts a hand on Ronan’s knee under the table. Feeling reckless, he moves his hand upward, tracing patters on Ronan’s thigh. He hears Ronan’s inhale sharply and feels his hand tighten on his shoulder.

“Ronan? You alright? You look a little red,” Gansey says, real concern in his voice. 

“I’m—“ Ronan clears his throat, sounding parched. “I’m fine.” 

Adam has to hide his smile. Blue is looking at Ronan with a knowing raise of her eyebrows, but before she can comment, Jeremy Grayson walks over to their table with three of his friends. Adam doesn’t try to keep the distaste off his face, this time. 

Jeremy’s gaze falls on Ronan’s arm around Adam and the way they’re leaning into each other. “So it’s true, huh? Dick Gansey’s two best friends are boning?”

Adam feels Ronan tense and fixes Jeremy with a stony glare. “I don’t really think that’s any of your business.”

“Hey, man, it’s cool. I just always thought it’d be Gansey and Lynch. The scholarship student is a bit of an underachievement for you, Lynch, don’t you think?”

Adam goes rigid. Fury is radiating off of Ronan as he says, “Take your minions and fuck off, Grayson, unless you want a black eye tomorrow.”

“Calm down, man. We’re all friends here. Are your types always this aggressive?” 

“Speaking personally,” Henry chimes in, voice cheerful, “We’re as friendly as puppies. We start biting around self-entitled homophobic dickbags, though.”

Blue adds, “I’m pretty sure Nino’s has a policy about harassment. I can talk to my manager and get you assholes kicked out tonight and every other night.” 

Jeremy opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, but then just shakes his head and walks away, his pack of piranhas trailing behind him.

No one at the table speaks for a long moment, and then Adam is muttering some unintelligible excuse, getting up from the booth, and quickly hurrying outside before anyone can try to stop him. He goes and sits in the Hondayota, leans his forehead against the steering wheel while taking deep breaths.

It’s stupid—he’s used to comments like this from Aglionby boys. He shouldn’t care. But the word _underachievement_ echoes in his head, and he thinks, bitterly, how true it is. Ronan Lynch, dreamer of beautiful things, settling for Adam Parrish, who only makes everything ugly.

He doesn’t move when the passenger door opens and someone sits heavily in the seat. He simply waits. 

“So, in the future, I’ll just tell anyone who says I’m underachieving by dating Adam Parrish – as if it isn’t the other way around – that I really fucking like my… boyfriend, who is smarter and sexier than every other asshole, just by the way, and that I’m happy as fuck with him, so they can just shove their bullshit up their ass.”

Adam turns his head and meets Ronan’s intense gaze. He’s flushed pink but he doesn’t look away from Adam.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Adam says, cringing exaggeratedly, “I can’t believe you just called me _sexy,_ Lynch.”

Ronan turns pinker. “Fuck you.” 

Adam lets out a watery laugh, and then he kisses Ronan deeply, hands coming up to hold the back of his head.

“Hey,” Adam says, between kisses, “I really,” – Adam kisses the corner of his mouth – “really,” – his cheek – “really,” – his jaw – “ _really_ like you. Just by the way.”

Ronan’s skin is a particularly unattractive shade of maroon at this point. “Good to know,” He manages, voice strained.

When Ronan drops him off at St. Agnes later, he quickly pecks him on the lips and mumbles a “Night, Parrish.”

Adam is startled for a second. It’s like the cheek kiss at Nino’s – something about the unthinking gesture unwinds something in him.

Ronan seems to realize this and sighs exasperatedly. “Jesus, Parrish, if you’re going to get all emotional on me—“

“Goodnight, Ronan.”

 

 

*

 

The next day, Adam goes to Monmouth straight after work, sore and exhausted. 

“You look like shit,” Ronan says when Adam walks into his bedroom.

Adam grunts in assent and sits down next to him on the bed, too tired to say anything else. He winces as his shoulder moves a little the wrong way, and Ronan narrows his eyes. 

“The fuck happened to you?”

“Nothing. Long day at work.”

“Let me rephrase. The fuck is wrong with your shoulder?” 

“It’s just a little sore.”

Ronan looks at him for a long moment. He says, casually, “I could give you a massage.” 

Adam raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“What? You look like you’re in agony, Parrish.”

Adam sighs and then shifts down the bed a little, so Ronan has access to his shoulders and back. 

Ronan clears his throat. “This might be more effective if you take your shirt off.” 

Adam snorts. “Sure, Lynch.” 

“Hey, I’m just trying to give you the most gratifying and relaxing massage, that’s all.” Adam can hear the smirk in Ronan’s voice.

Adam looks back at Ronan and then, looking at him purposefully, lifts his shirt over his head. Ronan inhales sharply, looking surprised, as if he didn’t actually expect Adam to take off his shirt. This is only the second time that he has been shirtless like this, and Ronan’s eyes are just as worshipful and hungry as the first time as they take him in. 

Adam turns back so that he’s facing away from Ronan and waits. Ronan’s hands hover over his skin, hesitating, as if he’s still not sure if he’s allowed.

“Well, get on with it, then,” Adam huffs. 

Ronan does, pressing his wonderful hands into the knots in Adam’s muscles, digging in his fingers and making Adam sigh in relief.

“Fuck, Ronan,” Adam groans appreciatively, and Ronan’s movements stutter a little.

Soon, Ronan stops the massage and simply traces his fingers across Adam’s back, exploring, feeling. Adam’s breath hitches every time his hands tease the waistband of his jeans. Then, Adam feels Ronan’s lips brush his shoulder, feather light. His hands wrap around Adam’s waist as he presses kisses to his neck and shoulder. Adam automatically tilts his head to allow him better access to his throat.

“I thought you were giving me a massage,” Adam says, voice breathy.

“I did give you a massage. Now I’m kissing you.” Ronan’s hands roam his torso while his lips travel to the underside of his jaw. Adam leans back so his back is against Ronan’s chest.

“Ronan,” Adam sighs. “I’m tired.” 

“Mmm,” Ronan agrees, kissing under his ear. 

Adam swats at Ronan until he moves and then he collapses into Ronan’s lap, immediately closing his eyes.

“I’m not a fucking pillow, Parrish.”

“Shut up,” Adam mumbles sleepily into his thigh.

Ronan’s fingers absently stroke Adam’s dusty hair, and Adam hums contently. Adam drifts in and out of consciousness until Ronan breaks the silence. 

“Adam?” 

Adam opens his eyes fully, with some effort, and turns so that he’s on his back, looking up at Ronan, who is looking at Adam with a nervous expression. 

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing on Thursday?”

Thursday is Thanksgiving. Adam tries not to think about how he has nowhere to go. Well, that’s not entirely true. The five of them had all wanted to spend Thanksgiving together, probably at Fox Way, but their individual families had called and roped them in. Gansey will be with his parents’ in D.C. for the weekend, Henry with the Vancouver crew, and Ronan is having dinner at the Barns with Matthew and Declan. Blue had invited Adam to Fox Way anyways, even without the other boys, but he didn’t feel comfortable there with Blue’s thousand and one relatives visiting for the holiday.

“Probably just staying in and studying. Maybe working some extra shifts, if they’re available. Why?”

Ronan bites his lip, exhales. “I was thinking—you could spend it at the Barns? You know, with me and Declan and Matthew. And Opal. If you want to.”

Adam tenses and sits up. “I—I don’t know, I mean… it’s your time with your brothers. I don’t really need to be there.”

Adam hates the disappointment on Ronan’s face. “Yeah, but—you’re not really doing anything and I—it’d be nice if you could come, Parrish. Opal would like it. She doesn’t really know Declan or Matthew yet.”

“I _am_ doing something,” Adam insists. “I told you. I have a lot of work to catch up on. Opal will be fine.” 

Ronan clenches his fists and stares at Adam for an indeterminable amount of time. Then he says, simply, “Okay.”

 

*

 

Ronan brings it up again the next day. Adam sits on his shitty mattress in his apartment, doing homework, while Ronan sits next to him with Chainsaw on his lap. 

There’s no preamble. They sit in comfortable silence until Ronan suddenly blurts out, “Why won’t you come to the Barns?”

Adam turns to him, confused. “What?”

Ronan grits his teeth, looking like he’s in physical pain. “For Thanksgiving. Why won’t you spend Thanksgiving with us?”

Adam shifts uncomfortably. “I—I don’t want to intrude. You don’t have to invite me just because I don’t have anywhere else to—“

“I’m inviting you because I _want_ you there, Adam. Jesus. You aren’t fucking intruding on anything.”

“Yes, I am,” Adam insists, stubborn. “Everyone is spending the day with their family, and especially after everything you went through, you deserve to have time to yourselves with your brothers, in your home. It’s time for your family, Ronan—“ 

“And the fuck do you think _you_ are?” 

Adam stills, mouth parted in shock. Ronan stares at him, unwavering. 

“I’m not your fucking family,” Adam hisses, cold.

Ronan recoils back like Adam has punched him, hurt clear on his face from Adam’s cruel words and icy tone. Adam feels his heart break, hating that he put that look there. Then Ronan puts on his disinterested mask back up and stands.

“I—I should go pick up Opal from Fox Way.” His voice is emotionless, unreadable.

“Wait—“ Adam says, desperate, feeling like he’s drowning. “Wait, Ronan, I didn’t mean it like that—“

But Ronan is already at the door, his face turned away, his shoulders hunched. “Bye, Parrish.”

Adam feels tears rise up in his eyes, but he blinks them back. He doesn’t know why he said that. He doesn’t know why he breaks every good thing in his life. 

 _And the fuck do you think_ you _are?_

Adam thinks about how Ronan has lost so much of his family and what that word means to him. He thinks about how Ronan didn’t even hesitate before calling him family, rendering Adam a part of something safe and cherished, making Adam _belong_. 

But Adam doesn’t belong there. He is not a part of the Lynch family. He did not grow up with that laughing, wild father and that wild, happy mother, in that beautiful and sheltered home.

 _Family_ to Adam was that suffocating trailer with its angry words and cold shoulders. It was _don’t tell anyone, Adam, we’ll deal with this as a family, won’t we?_ It was _you wouldn’t be here without us, boy, remember that, and this is how you treat us?_

 _No_ , Adam tells himself furiously. _Those people were not your family. That place was not your home_. 

But he can’t be a part of Ronan’s family either. He can’t. He’s not made for it. He hasn’t earned it. He doesn’t understand how Ronan can just call him family, just like that, easy and casual and unquestioning.

When he closes his eyes, all he sees is Ronan’s wounded expression.

 

*

 

Adam spends Thursday morning trying to get work done before finally giving up and driving to the Barns.

Opal is sitting on the grass in front of the porch, something cupped in her hands. On closer inspection, Adam realizes that she’s holding a squirrel. A squirrel that looks like it’s being tortured. 

When she spots Adam, Opal jumps up, dropping the squirrel, which flees the minute it hits the ground.

Opal runs to Adam and starts babbling something in the dream language. Adam pats her head and interrupts her, “Latin or English, Opal.”

Opal takes his hand and kisses it. She’s still wearing Adam’s old watch. She tried to give it back to him several times, but Adam told her to keep it permanently. He still needs to replace it.

“Kerah is making food all morning. He make—fire.” Adam frowns. If Ronan is setting things on fire, that’s not a good sign.

“Where is he?” 

Her expression is worried, fearful. Adam thinks it’s a very old expression for such a young child. An expression that he wore on his face often before he turned ten. “Inside. He is very sad.”

Adam swallows. “How do you know?”

Opal furrows her brows, the question of _how_ she knows something about anything foreign to her. “I know,” she says simply. “Also, he called me Opal instead of urchin or brat.” 

When Adam walks through the unlocked door, the first thing he sees is the chaos that is the kitchen: food everywhere, utensils and materials strewn on the floor, the gas turned on even though there was nothing on it. Ronan is nowhere in sight.

There is a loud crash from somewhere above him and then a yelled _Jesus fucking Christ!_ Adam hurries upstairs and hovers in the open doorway of Ronan’s bedroom. Ronan is rummaging through drawers, muttering angrily to himself.

Adam takes a deep breath and knocks lightly on the door, announcing his presence. Ronan turns around and when he spots Adam, his face immediately becomes defensive.

“Parrish. The fuck are you doing here?” Ronan asks, clipped.

“Opal told me you set something on fire. Figured I better come and save you.”

Ronan doesn’t smile, doesn’t react. He just stares at Adam blankly.

Adam sighs and walks over to Ronan. Ronan tenses when Adam takes his hands in his own, and he doesn’t meet his eyes. Guilt rises up in Adam, sharp and overwhelming. He brings Ronan’s hands to his mouth, kissing the knuckles. Ronan clenches his jaw.

“I’m sorry,” Adam whispers, voice breaking a little. “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean it.” 

“It doesn’t matter, Parrish,” Ronan says, still in that emotionless tone.

“Of course it matters. I—Jesus, would you at least look at me?” 

He does not, instead pulling his hands away from Adam and looking at the floor. There is something young and vulnerable in his posture, in the curve of his lip. Adam moves closer again, takes Ronan’s face in his hands, forces it up.

Adam kisses him gently, a bare press of the lips. “I’m sorry,” Adam says against his mouth. “I’m sorry, Ronan. I didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t.” 

Ronan exhales unsteadily. His eyes are closed. He doesn’t open them for a long minute, and then he says, “I want you here, Adam. Whether or not you want to be here – that’s up to you.”

“I want to be here,” Adam says, voice cracking. “I want to be here—so much. That’s not what’s—“ He breaks off, takes deep breaths, blinks back tears. 

Ronan cups his cheek and Adam can’t help but lean into his hand. “Then what is it?” 

“I don’t…” He shakes his head, words failing him. “I don’t know how to—“ _How to do this, how to accept everything you’re giving me, how to belong in this family created out of love and magic and safety._

Ronan watches him struggle for a few more moments, and then kisses him. “It’s okay. Forget it.”

Adam shakes his head again. “It’s not okay. I—“ But he can’t explain the tangled emotions inside him, so he just buries his head in Ronan’s shoulder and wraps his arms around his neck, holding onto him as tight as he can. Immediately, Ronan’s arms snake around his waist, a sure and solid weight. _Family._ “I want to be here, Ronan. You letting me be here, giving me—it means a lot to me. Okay?”

“I’m not _letting_ you anything,” Ronan says into his hearing ear. “You already—you’re always wanted here, Adam.” 

Adam feels himself trembling. It’s too much, this is too much. He doesn’t say anything, just holds onto Ronan tighter.

They stand there for a while, breathing each other in. Ronan finally tries to pull away, but Adam holds on tighter. “Parrish, are you gonna let go any time soon?” Ronan asks, amused. 

“Nope.” 

Ronan huffs. “Seriously. I have to prepare shit for tonight.”

“Too bad,” Adam says, obstinate. 

“So fucking clingy,” Ronan grumbles. 

“Shut the fuck up, Lynch.” 

Ronan does. When they finally do pull apart, Ronan smiles at him, soft, open.

“So, you’re staying for dinner?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” 

Ronan hesitates. “I—Matthew and Declan should be here in a couple of hours. I haven’t told them about—us.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t have to—“ 

Ronan shakes his head. “No, no, I told you, I want you here, I want to—I want to tell them. I just thought that you should know. I don’t…” He trails off, bites his lip, looking anxious. “I don’t know how they’ll react.” 

Ronan fidgets with his leather bands, pressing his fingers under the straps and touching the scars underneath. Adam doesn’t think Ronan’s aware that he’s doing it. He knows that it took Ronan a long time to come to terms with his sexuality, and the idea of coming out to his brothers may bring back old fears, especially with the Lynches’ Catholic upbringing. Adam remembers the way Declan’s face had tightened that time when Ronan put his legs over Adam’s.

Adam takes Ronan’s twitching hands in his, runs his own fingers over his scars. Brings them to his lips, mouth brushing over leather and skin. He doesn’t say anything, just lets his touch convey that he’s here.

Adam clears his throat. “So, did your refrigerator throw up all over the kitchen, or something?” 

“No, Parrish,” Ronan growls. “I tried to remember all my dad’s Thanksgiving recipes but—it wasn’t working out. The actual recipes are stashed in here somewhere, I was trying to find them.”

“I’ll help you look for them. And then we can make the food, and maybe you _won’t_ burn the whole place down.”

“I didn’t burn anything down. The urchin was exaggerating.”

“Sure,” Adam says, not bothering to argue. He hesitates. “She—she said you were sad.”

Ronan doesn’t meet his gaze. “Yeah, well. I watched Finding Nemo with her earlier and that shit gets to me.”

Adam touches Ronan’s cheek. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Ronan makes an exasperated noise. “Parrish, keep up, we’ve moved on.” 

“I know, but I—I’m still sorry. I don’t… I don’t ever want to make you sad.”

“Adam, you make me the opposite of sad, alright? It—It’s fine. We’re good now. It wasn’t your fault, anyways. I—I get it.”

Adam is still unsure, but drops the subject. 

They scavenge the room for the recipes and find them stuffed in Ronan’s old boots. Adam helps out with the cooking, surprised to find that Ronan is actually a good cook once he has the proper instructions. 

Adam had driven to the Barns in a rush, desperate to fix things with Ronan, so he hadn’t bothered to dress up for the occasion. Ronan loans him one of his old shirts, and from the look on his face when Adam put it on, he suspects Ronan likes seeing Adam in his clothes. 

Declan and Matthew arrive at around 5 pm. Adam asks Ronan if he’d rather tell them first in private, before they see them together, but Ronan just shakes his head and takes Adam’s hand. 

Opal clutches Adam’s other arm tightly, partially hiding behind him.

When they walk in the door, Matthew immediately breaks into a smile. “Hey, pal.” He then notices Adam and Opal and waves to them uncertainly. 

Declan’s eyebrows are furrowed. “Parrish. What are you doing h—“ He stops abruptly as his eyes fall on the boys’ intertwined hands. 

Adam feels Ronan tense beside him, and he squeezes his hand in reassurance. 

Ronan clears his throat. “Declan. Matthew. Adam is joining us for dinner.” 

Ronan stares at Declan, a challenge in his eyes, daring him to say something.

Declan’s expression is unreadable. “If I’d known dates were allowed, I would’ve brought Ashley,” He says finally. 

Ronan snorts. “It’s a good thing I didn’t tell you, then.”

Matthew looks between Ronan and Adam. “You and Adam are dating?” 

Ronan nods, still tense. Adam can feel the anxiety radiating off of him. 

Matthew beams. “Cool.” 

Ronan relaxes a little.

Declan looks at Opal. “Hello,” He says, a little awkwardly. 

Opal peeks out from behind Adam, smiling shyly. Predictably, she loves Matthew from the one time she met him before. She trails after him as he goes out into the yard, dragging Adam with her. Adam exchanges one last worried look with Ronan before following her.

 

*

 

“Well,” Declan says, once they’re alone in the kitchen. “How much have you prepared? Anything I can help with?”

Ronan sneers at Declan, his defenses up. “Just say it, man.”

“Say what?” 

“Come on, I know you have an opinion. Get it over with.”

“About you and Parrish, you mean?”

Ronan stays silent. 

Declan lets out an annoyed breath. “Well, you could a lot worse than him, for sure. He’s smart as fuck.”

Ronan keeps his expression impassive. “You… you don’t have a problem with it?”

Declan shrugs. “I always suspected that you were… gay,” – Ronan tenses – “so it’s not a huge surprise, I guess.” 

Ronan grits his teeth. “You didn’t answer the question.” 

Declan doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “I’m not going to lie, I used to.” 

“Yeah, I figured,” Ronan snarls, clenching his fists. 

“Calm down, dumbass, I said I _used_ to. It was shitty.” 

“Whatever.”

“Look, as long as you’re alright and not being a stupid fuck, I don’t care what you do. And like I said, you can do a lot worse than Parrish.” 

Ronan doesn’t respond, just stares out into the yard where Adam is watching over Matthew and Opal. 

Declan moves closer to him and bumps their shoulders. “So, it’s pretty fucking serious between you two, isn’t it?”

Ronan tries not to blush and fails. “The fuck do you know?”

Declan gives him a withering look. “You brought him to _Thanksgiving_ , Ronan. And he’s wearing the shirt Dad gave you as a gift.”

Ronan glares at him. “I’m going to check on Opal and Matthew.”

“I think they’re fine with your fiancé watching over them.” 

“Jesus, shut up,” Ronan hisses, turning redder. “He might hear you.”

Declan has a shit-eating grin on his face and ignores Ronan as he glowers.

 

 

*

 

 

Dinner is horribly uncomfortable. The truce between Ronan and Declan is still new, and they clearly don’t know how to be around each other when they’re not fighting. But mostly, Adam feels like an intruder, despite Ronan’s insistence that he isn’t. It’s Matthew’s easy countenance and Opal’s strange comments that keep the tension from suffocating them.

The food is excellent, at least. Adam files away the knowledge of Ronan’s exceptional cooking skills for later.

When Declan goes outside to take a phone call, Matthew turns on Adam. “So, how long have you and my brother been together?”

“About a month,” Adam says. 

“Since my birthday,” Ronan adds. 

“Cool,” Matthew says. Then he says, with a sly grin that feels at odds with his innocent face, “Ronan really, really likes you, by the way.”

Adam smiles at Ronan’s embarrassed spluttering and asks, “How do you know?” 

Matthew’s face goes confused for a moment before he replies, simply, “I know.” A pause. “Also, he keeps staring at you with this lovesick expression on his face. And he’s actually smiling, which is just weird.” 

Ronan’s face is a bright crimson, and Adam finds himself flushing pink, too. Ronan is about to snap at Matthew when Declan walks back in and the conversation shifts. Before it does, though, Adam grabs Ronan’s hand under the table and squeezes it, tracing gentle patterns on his palm, hoping it conveys what he wants it to.

Opal seems like she’s going to pass out after dinner, so Ronan takes her upstairs to tuck her in. Matthew follows him, wanting to take a few things from his old room. 

That leaves Adam and Declan alone in the living room.

They stand in silence for a long while before Declan clears his throat. “You know, my brother doesn’t do casual relationships. He’s made that pretty clear every time I see a new girl.”

Adam shifts uncomfortably, not particularly keen on having this conversation. “I know that.”

Declan raises his eyebrows. “Do you? Did Ronan tell you about how we used to celebrate Thanksgiving, back when Dad was alive?”

Adam shakes his head. 

“Our dad always said, Thanksgiving is for family. Only for the Lynches. Sometimes, Ronan or I would want to invite a friend to join us, or our mom would want to gather more people, but we weren’t allowed. Of course,” – Declan laughs bitterly – “Half of the time our dad wasn’t even home for the holiday, but the rules still stood. He said the only time there could be an additional person on the table is if we bring someone we see a real future with. Someone we want to make a part of the family. A prospective Lynch.”

Adam is speechless. He’s pretty sure the heat from his cheeks matches the temperature of the sun.

“I—that’s not—“ Adam tries. Breaks off. Everything feels fuzzy and imaginary. “Ronan didn’t mean—“

“You and I both know he did,” Declan interrupts.

And it’s true. Niall Lynch may be dead, but Ronan holds onto his father’s rules and promises wholly and without question. Adam remembers how Ronan didn’t tell any of them about his dreaming abilities until he absolutely had to, simply because his father had told him not to. 

Fortunately, before Adam can come up with an appropriate answer, he hears Ronan and Matthew’s bickering as they come down the stairs. 

Declan and Matthew leave soon after, and then Adam follows Ronan to his room. He changes into Ronan’s t-shirt and sweats and collapses onto the bed, Ronan following him. They lay facing each other, and Adam takes Ronan’s hands in his.

“So, how did it go?” Adam asks. 

Ronan shrugs. “Better than I expected.”

“Good.” 

Ronan hesitates. “Did—Did Declan say anything to you?”

Adam thinks about Declan’s words and feels warm everywhere. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but his voice comes out strained when he says, “Nothing, really.” 

Ronan searches his face, and Adam knows that Ronan knows what Declan told him. Ronan’s expression is complicated, and Adam sees fear behind the mask.

“Hey,” Adam whispers, soft. “I’m really glad I came here today.”

“Yeah?” Ronan sounds uncertain. 

Adam smiles wryly. “Well, it definitely beats a shift at the factory.” 

Ronan huffs. “Asshole.”

Adam kisses him in response. They fall asleep soon afterwards, Ronan’s arms around Adam, holding him tightly.

 

*

 

Adam wakes up to the smell of pancakes and finds the bed empty. When he goes downstairs, Ronan is making breakfast, an elaborate set up of eggs, pancakes, French toast, hash browns, coffee, and tree bark. The last one is for Opal, Adam is assuming.

“Christ, Lynch. How many people are joining us for breakfast, exactly?” 

“Good morning to you too, Parrish,” Ronan says without turning around from where he is flipping eggs. 

Adam walks over to him and wraps his arms around Ronan’s waist, his chin resting on the other boy’s shoulder. Ronan stills for a moment before continuing to work on his eggs.

Adam then kisses the bit of tattoo that’s peaking out beneath Ronan’s tank, and Ronan’s movements stutter again. He presses feather light kisses from Ronan’s shoulder to his neck to the underside of his jaw, his hands slipping beneath the hem of the other boy’s tank to travel the length of his chest. When Adam’s tongue pokes out to lick under the sensitive spot just under his ear, Ronan drops the pan on the gas with a loud clang and turns around, kissing Adam with an intensity that leaves him breathless. 

Ronan’s hands immediately tangle in Adam’s hair and Adam continues to chart Ronan’s chest with his hands. Ronan breaks away from Adam’s lips for a moment and takes his shirt off, and then they’re kissing again. Ronan backs Adam against the counter, body flush against his, his hands now gripping Adam’s hips.

It’s tongues and teeth and too much and not enough; Adam wants more, more, _more,_ and just as he’s about to cross some unspoken line and reach for it, he hears hooves clattering from upstairs. The boys jump away from each other just as Opal reaches the kitchen, both flushed and panting heavily. 

Opal is oblivious to any unresolved sexual tension and chirps good morning to Adam and Ronan. Adam mumbles something in response, but Ronan is just staring at him, pupils blown wide, looking completely undone.

Adam clears his throat. “We should, uh—breakfast.”

Ronan breaks out of his trance and nods, quickly getting back to whatever he was preparing. Adam sits down at the table with Opal, trying to get his heart back to normal. Ronan is still shirtless, which is terribly distracting.

“You could help, you know,” Ronan calls to Adam. 

“I could, but I thought this was supposed to be the whole romantic making your boyfriend breakfast for the first time thing. I’m pretty sure said boyfriend is supposed to sit back and relax in this case, not help out.”

Adam watches in amusement as the tips of Ronan’s ears and the back of his neck flush, either at the word “boyfriend” or the acknowledgement of his gesture or both.

“You’re fucking presumptuous, Parrish,” Ronan says belatedly, voice dry.

“Really? So this five course breakfast set up _isn’t_ for my benefit?” 

“Shut up unless you want to eat tree bark.” 

Adam laughs, and Opal looks vaguely offended at the insult to her favorite food.

Ronan brings a stack of pancakes to the table, completing his elaborate buffet. As he does, his bare chest brushes up against Adam’s shoulder, and Adam’s pulse quickens dangerously. He can’t stop himself from ogling a little as Ronan sits across from him. Ronan notices, raising his eyebrows smugly, and Adam feels his face heat up.

Opal makes a disgusted face every time she takes a bite of non-bark food, and Ronan snaps at her to _develop proper fucking eating habits, Jesus, did you grow up in a barn?_

Opal just hisses at him in response and gets up from the table, taking a piece of bark in her hands with her. 

“Opal, wait, finish your—” Adam sighs, shaking his head as Opal gallops into the front yard. “Nevermind.” 

Ronan snorts. “Well, on the bright side, if she doesn’t have internal organs, I guess all the weird crap she eats doesn’t really matter.”

Adam chews his eggs, pensive. “When did she first appear in your dreams? Do you remember?”

Ronan shrugs. “Don’t know, man. She’s just always been there. I never thought too much about it.”

“Why did you start calling her Orphan Girl? I can’t believe you didn’t even give her an actual name for all those years.” 

A little bite creeps into his voice, and he immediately feels both indignant and ashamed. It’s not his place, and yet he can’t get over how she didn’t have anything. How she was always so terrified. How she should have had something, at least a name.

“Parrish, I was a kid. She looked like an orphan, so I called her Orphan Girl, and it stuck. Besides, she didn’t fucking care.”

“I know,” Adam says, breathing slowly. “I know. Sorry. I was just… I don’t know.”

“It’s fine,” Ronan says softly. Then, he grins. “Besides, she has a name now because she’s not an orphan anymore. She has us. And you’re the little brat’s favorite, though fuck knows why, I’m the one who birthed her.” 

Adam freezes. His brain goes blank.

Ronan seems to realize what he’s just said and turns red immediately. He looks like he’s about to say something, but one look at Adam’s face stops him short.

Adam can’t breathe. He can’t breathe and he feels tears burning in his eyes and his heart is beating so fast that it’s painful.

“Adam?” Ronan sounds concerned, afraid. 

“I—I have to—“ Adam chokes out, voice thick. “I’m sorry. I just—I need a minute.” He gets up quickly, almost knocking over his chair, and without another word runs up the stairs and into Ronan’s bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

He sits on the bed, hugs his knees to his chest, closes his eyes. Counts to ten. It does nothing to stamp out the panic in his veins. Tears are flowing freely down his cheeks.

_She’s not an orphan anymore. She has us._

All Adam can hear are his father’s words echoing in his ear. All he can see are plates smashing against the wall and fists coming towards him and fear, fear, fear in every corner.

Except now, Robert Parrish’s face is replaced by Adam’s, and Adam’s cowering figure is Opal’s. 

He loves Opal. He would never do that. He is not his father. He tells himself that, again and again and again. And yet, the crushing fear lingers, overpowering any rational thought. Maybe it’s in his blood. Maybe it’ll rear its ugly head one day when he least expects it. It happened once with Blue, after all. What’s to say it won’t happen again?

He remembers the first thought he had when he saw Opal – that if she was a regular night horror, they could just get rid of her. He feels sick at the memory.

Too much monster blood.

He feels a weight settle beside him on the bed, and turns to find Ronan looking at him cautiously. He didn’t see or hear him come in. He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting in the same position, quietly shaking and crying and falling apart.

He wipes his face aggressively, not looking at the boy beside him. “Sorry,” He says, sniffling. “Sorry, I don’t—I don’t know why I’m like this.“ 

Ronan wraps an arm around him, and Adam leans against him automatically. “Don’t fucking apologize,” Ronan says, fierce and gentle at the same time. He holds Adam against his chest, stroking his hair. “Adam. Talk to me.”

Adam’s voice is quiet, trembling, ashamed. “What if I hurt her, Ronan?” 

Ronan’s arms tighten around him. “You’re not him, Adam. You’re nothing fucking like him. You would never—Jesus. You’re a good person.”

“What if I’m not?” Adam whispers.

“You _are_ ,” Ronan says fiercely. “You’re a fucking amazing person, alright? I know how much you care about her, and she’s fucking obsessed with you. You didn’t even hesitate before helping her, you were the first person who—you know what, she can tell you herself. Come here, urchin.” The last part is directed at Opal, who is standing by the door. Adam doesn’t know how long she’s been standing there. 

Opal sits next to Adam and kisses his arm. She looks at him with wide eyes and gently wipes the tears from his cheeks. Affection wells up inside Adam, unbidden and all consuming.

“ _Te amo_ ,” she tells him softly. Then she looks quickly at Ronan, and Adam sees him nod at her from the corner of his eye. Opal looks back at Adam and her expression turns a little shy. “I l-love you, Adam.”

Adam’s breath catches. He is immediately grateful that the first time he hears these words, they are coming from this tiny girl’s honey sweet voice, full of innocent tenderness. 

He is crying even harder than before as she climbs into his lap and presses her cheek to his chest. He wraps his arms around her tightly and kisses the top of her head.

“I love you, too, Opal,” Adam whispers. The words feel foreign on his tongue, and yet he knows with a ferocious certainty that they are truer than anything he’s ever said before. 

He turns to look at Ronan, who is already looking at him, his eyes radiating warmth and fondness and love. _Thank you_ , Adam mouths, running his fingers through Opal’s hair, and Ronan smiles.

As he holds Opal close to his heart, he thinks of the deep and unconditional love he feels for this girl, and the affection he feels for his friends, how he would do anything for all of them. He thinks of how incredibly far that is from Robert Parrish’s hateful anger. He holds onto that light inside him, and lets it wash away the darkness.

 

*

 

Adam has to leave the Barns for work soon afterwards, and when he gets in the Hondayota, there is a new mixtape on the seat. It doesn’t have a title, just a tiny stick figure sketch of three figures that he immediately knows is him, Ronan, and Opal, courtesy of the latter. Deciding he can be a little late, he listens to the whole thing on the spot. The voices sing of family and home and belonging, and by the end, he’s almost crying again (and also letting out a watery snort when "We Are Family" by Sister Sledge starts playing). 

He quickly runs inside the house again. Ronan is in the kitchen, looking confused at Adams sudden reentrance.

“Parrish? I thought you— _mmph_!” Ronan is interrupted by Adam’s lips crushing his, and he responds back enthusiastically. Adam pours everything that he’s feeling into the kiss, hoping that Ronan understands. 

When he pulls away, they’re both breathing hard.

“What was that for, Parrish?”

Adam buries his face into Ronan’s neck, and Ronan’s arms come around his back. “You know what it was for, asshole,” Adam mumbles into his shoulder.

“Aren’t you going to be late for work?” 

“I can be a little late one day. Either that or I’ll skip my shower.” 

“Gross.”

Adam rolls his eyes and pulls away, his arms still looped around Ronan’s neck. “Ronan,” He starts, then stops, unsure of how to put his emotions into words. 

“Parrish.” 

“Ronan, you—you’re— _fuck_.” 

“Eloquent as always.” 

“ _Ronan_ ,” Adam says again, voice breaking a little, this time.

Ronan traces his cheekbone with his thumb, presses his lips to his forehead. “I know, Parrish. Now go the fuck to work or they’ll fire your tardy ass.” 

Adam breaks away reluctantly, and with a final kiss to Ronan’s lips, leaves in his tri-colored car, with _home, home, home_ thrumming in his veins, in tandem with the beat of the music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some songs Ronan included in his mixtapes~  
> The Happy Mix: Happy - Marina and the Diamonds, I'll Be Alright - Passion Pit, Float On - Modest Mouse  
> The Family Mix: To Build A Home - The Cinematic Orchestra, Welcome Home - Radical Face, We Are Family - Sister Sledge
> 
> I hope it was clear that Adam wasn't wrong or horrible for not being able to accept Ronan calling him family; it makes sense and is very understandable due to his history of abuse and complicated views of love and family, just as it's understandable that Ronan was hurt too. It's difficult to make that come across with how hard on himself Adam always is in his POV. Also, the next chapter is the awkward sex chapter so..... get excited..... or not, since I don't know how to write smut. There will be more Ronan/Blue bonding too.


	9. hungry animals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Ronan knows is that the hunger and want he feels for Adam is overwhelming. Not just in a sexual way – in every way. He simply wants all of him, all the time, for as long as possible, and then some. He wants him so deeply that sometimes he can’t breathe around it. He’s afraid Adam won’t be able to handle the force of his want. That Adam will run away from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to put this up yesterday in honor of the most important day of the year, Adam Parrish's birthday, but it's a little late. I just wanted my son to Get Some on his birthday (not that it's his birthday in the chapter, but y'know). Anyways, this is the first time I'm writing smut so it's..... probably really awful and embarrassing. And also left me feeling like I need to take a bath in holy water. I planned to make the smut Really Really Vague but......... I got carried away. Also, my bitterness about the lack of Ronan/Blue in TRK and the absurdity of Ronan, like, not even once thinking or worrying about Blue in his POV chapters shows through in this chapter, whoops. And somehow this ended up being almost 12k words so um?? Sorry in advance.

On the Tuesday after Thanksgiving, Ronan comes to the garage just as Adam is finishing up his night shift. He watches Adam as he works in his coveralls, and Adam flushes as he feels Ronan’s hungry gaze roam his body. Something is different about the air tonight, the snappable tension that’s always between them now closer to breaking than ever.

They don’t speak as they get into the BMW, as they drive through the dark Henrietta streets. Adam feels restless, wild, desire coursing through him, making him rash.

He considers putting his hand on top of Ronan’s on the gearshift, but instead places it on Ronan’s knee. The car speeds up noticeably for a few seconds. Adam slowly moves his hand upwards along Ronan’s thigh, and Ronan’s breath hitches. Adam keeps his gaze trained on the windshield, but his pulse roars in his ears.

“Ronan,” Adam says, voice strangled. “Pull over onto that field.”

As soon as Ronan cuts the engine, Adam climbs into the backseat, Ronan wordlessly joining him a moment later. Adam pushes Ronan down until he’s lying flat on his back and Adam is on top of him. He kisses him hungrily, messily, and Ronan groans into his mouth.

As Adam sucks a bruise onto his neck, Ronan pants, “You couldn’t wait the ten minutes it would’ve— _fuck_ —taken us to reach St. Agnes, Parrish?”

“Nope,” Adam growls, his heated voice sounding foreign to his own ear. 

“Jesus, you’re getting grease all over me, you animal.”

Adam freezes at that, hot white shame coursing through him. Of course Ronan wouldn’t want to get this filth on him.

“Sorry,” Adam says thickly, “Sorry, I should’ve waited until I was clean, I—I smell like shit too—“

“Relax, Parrish, I was joking. Don’t fucking apologize.” Ronan hesitates, and then adds, “I _like_ how you smell, dumbass. And you look good covered in grease, so I’m not fucking complaining.”

Now Adam feels his face heat up for a different reason, and he kisses up to Ronan’s ear, whispering, “Yeah?”

“The coveralls are a nice addition, too.” 

Adam smirks against Ronan’s skin and then bites his earlobe. Ronan lets out a startled gasp, clutching Adam’s hair tighter.

And then Adam’s leg shifts a little and he feels Ronan hard against his thigh. He stills, his lips hovering right below Ronan’s ear. Ronan sucks in a breath. 

It is completely silent in the car, both boys barely even breathing. He doesn’t know if Ronan has ever gotten to this state while they were making out before – Adam himself has been extremely close to it several times – but this is certainly the first time he’s felt it, and Ronan knows that he felt it. He _wants_ so badly, wants with an intensity that is nearly painful, but there is an invisible line that he’s afraid to cross. _This is new, this is fragile, go slow_ , Adam tells himself.

Though, a month of dating is probably slow enough, Adam thinks. They’ve been dancing and tiptoeing around each other for weeks now and he knows they both _want_ with the same force. 

He lifts his head to look at Ronan and swallows. “Do you… do you want to…?”

Ronan’s eyes are dark and hungry, but there’s also something like fear in them. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” Adam whispers. “I do.” 

Ronan exhales shakily. “Me too, but—I—Not here,” He says, voice rough.

Adam doesn’t particularly mind the backseat, but it seems important to Ronan, so he says, “Okay. We can go back to my place, if you want.” 

Ronan shakes his head. “I, uh… I was thinking… the Barns? Not tonight, I mean… whenever you can…” 

Adam smiles at him softly. “Sure. I can come over Friday.”

“Okay.” A pause. “We should probably stop if…” 

Adam clears his throat. “Right.” They climb back in the front, and there is still a subtle tent in Ronan’s pants that both boys pretend isn’t there.

The rest of the ride is silent and slightly awkward, with this thing now out in the open. Adam thrums with anticipation. Friday can’t come soon enough.

When they reach the church, Adam looks at Ronan, and Ronan looks back. After enough silence has passed, Ronan says, with a twitch of his lips, “So—Friday?”

Adam gives him an amused look. “I’ll see you before then, you know.”

“Asshole. You know what I mean.” 

Adam grins. “Yeah, I do.” He quickly leans over and presses a kiss to Ronan’s cheek, mumbling a quiet _Goodnight, Lynch_ and then he’s out of the door.

 

*

 

For some reason, Opal loves the weird ass ladies of Fox Way, and has become particularly attached to Gwenllian. Ronan can’t decide if this is a good thing or not. It certainly has its benefits when Ronan needs someone to watch Opal, but on the other hand, Ronan now spends way more time at Fox Way than he wants to. 

On Wednesday afternoon, Opal insists that she needs to go to Fox Way so Orla can “paint her face.” 

So Ronan is standing in the kitchen of the psychics’ house with Opal when Blue walks in, bickering with Gwenllian and Orla. Blue spots Ronan and mutters a quick greeting, but Gwenllian’s eyes narrow when she looks at Ronan. 

“Ah! I can hear it, I can hear it, the sound of blood throbbing in your manhood!” 

Ronan first puts his hands over Opal’s innocent ears, which she tries to bat away. Then he sneers and is about to bite out a sarcastic reply, but the witch continues on, her words coming out in song. 

“Oh, but your manhood longs for another man! It’s pleasure and desire, lust and longing, pleasure and desire, lust and longing, that’s the sound, the sound in your manhood! Oh, and it’s the mongrel you long for, the mongrel who you wish to fill with your seed – or, perhaps, the other way around—“ 

“Jesus fuck! Sargent, get your crazy witch out of here!” Ronan hisses as soon as he’s able to find his voice through his embarrassment. 

Blue is looking at him with her mouth parted in shock, and Gwenllian just cackles as she repeats the vulgar song.

Just then, Calla brushes past Ronan, and as soon as she touches him, she jolts away. “Jesus _Christ_. I did not need to see that. Blue, your hormonal sex-crazy raven boys need to stop hanging around this house.”

Ronan bares his teeth at her, and she walks out of the room, shaking her head.

And then, it’s just Blue and Ronan. Ronan is flushed pink and not looking at Blue, while Blue stares at Ronan openly, looking both embarrassed and amused.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Blue clears her throat. “Come upstairs. I have something for Opal.”

Ronan furrows his brow. “Can’t you just give it to her yourself?”

“It’s not finished yet. I just want to show you.” 

Ronan wonders what ugly article of clothing Blue has knitted for Opal now and follows her to her room reluctantly. Once in there, Ronan realizes that he’s never actually been in Blue’s room before. It is pretty much a physical manifestation of Blue’s personality – weird shit hung up everywhere, a giant tree pasted on the walls. 

Ronan studies one of the walls as Blue rummages through a pile of clothing. The wall has a collage of photographs taped on it. Half are photos with her family, and the other half is with Gansey, Adam, Ronan, and Henry. He’s surprised to find how many pictures he’s in, mostly with the others, but there’s one polaroid of Blue sticking her tongue out at him and Ronan just looking at her with a shit-eating grin. He doesn’t remember the context, but he remembers that Gansey had taken the photo with a camera Ronan had dreamed for him. Gansey had given the polaroid to Ronan with a smile and Ronan had just scoffed and tossed it on the ground. He didn’t know that Blue had kept it, much less that she’d hung it up on this wall filled with cherished memories. He feels a strange pang inside of him at the discovery. 

“Here,” Blue says behind him. He turns and finds her holding a partially knitted green sweater in her hands. He takes it from her and unfolds it. It is pretty ugly, but he thinks it’s meant to be. It has “Opal Lynch” knitted in white thread. Ronan stares at it and says nothing. Eventually, Blue lets out an exasperated sigh and snatches it from him.

“It’ll keep her warm during the winter. She said green is her favorite color, so… it should be done in about a week.”

“I—thanks, maggot. It’s… She’ll like it.” 

Blue looks surprised and pleased at the words. “She better. It took me hours.” Blue pauses, then says, her cheeks turning a little pink, “Um, so, about what Calla, and Gwenllian said—“ 

“Oh, fuck no,” Ronan hisses. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

He moves to walk to the closed door but Blue grabs his arm. 

“And why not?” Blue challenges.

Ronan stares at her incredulously. “ _Why not?_ Because— _because_!”

Blue puffs out an annoyed breath. “Really convincing, Ronan. I’m your _friend_. Don’t friends talk about this stuff? I mean, you came to me after you kissed Adam. What, I’m only useful to talk to when you’re desperate and need advice? I know I’m not Gansey, but—“

“I don’t talk about this shit with _Gansey_.” Ronan’s voice is vaguely horrified.

“Okay, well, don’t Aglionby boys talk about their conquests with each other all the time?” Blue’s voice is scornful. “I get that I’m a girl so it might be difficult for you to treat me like an actual friend but—“ 

“When the fuck did this become about you being a girl? And so fucking what if they do? I’m still not—what, you want to sit here and gossip about my sex life? Are you going to offer to braid my hair next?”

Blue glares at him. “Don’t be sexist.” 

“How is that—“ 

“God, it’s not like I want details. Trust me, I really don’t want to know. I’m just wondering why the hell Calla _and_ Gwenllian sensed— _that_ from you so pointedly. And yesterday my mom mentioned something about sex being in the air lately.” Blue shudders distastefully. “I thought she was talking about herself or Calla. Anyways, it’s not exactly a regular occurrence.”

Ronan scoffs. “Well _I_ don’t fucking know why they all sensed it. I don’t know anything about your family’s weird witchcraft bullshit. Besides, there’s nothing to fucking tell.”

Blue raises her eyebrows. “Calla seemed to see something.”

“It wasn’t—she didn’t see… _that_. We haven’t—yet.”

Blue looks taken aback. “Oh.” 

“Well, don’t sound so surprised, Sargent.” 

Blue shrugs. “You two are always so… intense all the time and always touching each other, so it is kind of surprising.” 

“It’s not like we’ve been together that long. And I’ve never—“ Ronan broke off, flushing, wondering why the hell he was talking to Blue Sargent about sex. 

Blue looks even more surprised. “Really?”

Ronan doesn’t know if he should be flattered or offended by her surprise at his lack of experience. “I’d never even kissed anyone before Adam, Jesus.”

“Wow,” Blue replies simply.

Ronan sneers at her. “ _Wow_ ,” He mocks. Blue goes over to sit on the bed and pats the spot next to her expectantly. Ronan reluctantly sits next to her. “So, what, did you and Dick bang as soon as your lips stopped being fatal to him, or…?

Blue reddens and glares at him indignantly. “That’s—that’s not— we’re—“

Ronan watches her splutter for a few more seconds before interjecting, innocently, “What? We’re _friends_ , right? Don’t friends talk about this stuff?”

Blue puffs up and whacks him on the arm. “You’re such a shitbag. But, no, there’s nothing to tell with us either and there won’t be for a while.” 

She doesn’t elaborate and Ronan doesn’t ask her to. Ronan chews on his leather bands, words rising up inside him. He tries to squash them down. He really, _really_ doesn’t need to be discussing this with Sargent. But he needs to get rid of the burning uncertainty that, against all reason, is tormenting him. And he doesn’t really have anyone else to consult. 

“We’re going to,” Ronan blurts out. “This weekend.”

Blue stares at him. “Okay.”

Ronan stays silent, not knowing how to continue. 

Blue studies him. “Do you… do you not _want_ to…?”

“Of course I fucking want to,” Ronan snaps. 

“Then why do you look like you want to throw up?”

Ronan glares at Blue in lieu of answer.

Blue huffs in annoyance. “If you’re not going to tell me what’s wrong I don’t see the point of this conversation.”

Ronan tries to put his fear into words. He’s always been bad at this part. “I don’t—I don’t know, okay? I’m always scared of wanting too much of him. Or of— of being too much. I mean, shit, I’ve wanted him for a long ass time, alright? But this is still— it’s new for him. I don’t… I don’t know if he wants me the same way or as much or—” He breaks off, gnawing on the leather even more aggressively.

“Ronan. You’re overthinking things. Does he seem like he doesn’t want you the same way?”

“No, I mean—between the two of us, he’s usually the initiator about the physical shit.”

He had gotten Ronan out of his shirt the first night they kissed, after all. And he’s usually the one starting their heated makeout sessions, having no reservations about letting his hands wander and exploring Ronan’s skin. 

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Shit, I don’t know. I don’t even know if he’s ever—and if he has, it’s been with a girl.”

“That doesn’t matter. He clearly wants you and if he’s more experienced than you are, he wouldn’t judge you.”

He drags a hand over his face and sighs. “I know. Fuck, I don’t—whatever. It’ll be fine.”

“It will,” Blue agrees, and Ronan hopes that she’s right.

All Ronan knows is that the hunger and want he feels for Adam is overwhelming. Not just in a sexual way – in every way. He simply wants all of him, all the time, for as long as possible, and then some. He wants him so deeply that sometimes he can’t breathe around it. He’s afraid Adam won’t be able to handle the force of his want. That Adam will run away from it.

But that’s not something Blue, or anyone, can help with, so he simply says, “Thanks, maggot.” And then, “Christ. Let’s never do this again. I felt like I was talking to my little sister about sex, Jesus.”

“I’m _older_ than you,” Blue points out, annoyed. Then she brightens. “I’m like a sister?”

Her tone is mocking, but there is a hopeful undertone. Ronan remembers their fight a few weeks ago, her saying _Ronan hardly hangs out with me as it_ is, and Adam telling him later, _you should spend more time with her, you know_. _She reminds me a lot of you._ Ronan had just sneered, _You have a type, Parrish?_ But he hadn’t given his words any serious thought. 

He realizes that he really hasn’t hung out with her alone ever. He _does_ want to spend more time with her, and though talking to her about this was excruciating, it was considerably less excruciating than it would have been talking to anyone else he knows. 

Ronan looks at her and shrugs. “You’re definitely as annoying as one.” 

Blue rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. Then she gets a sly look on her face. “Hey, I might need a little extra time for Opal’s sweater. That is, if you want me to change the Opal Lynch to Opal Lynch-Parrish.” 

Ronan glowers at her, and she laughs. Then she rubs her eyes and yawns loudly.

“Wake up, grandma. It’s only early afternoon.”

Blue scowls at him. “I haven’t exactly been sleeping well.”

This stops Ronan in his tracks. “Nightmares?” His voice is softer now, full of concern.

Blue looks away, fidgeting with her hands. “Yeah.”

“About Gansey?” 

Blue bites her lip. “Mostly. But… everything, really. Gansey. Persephone. Noah. You.”

Ronan makes a surprised sound. “Me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Blue snaps. “Watching your unmaking wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.” 

“I know. I just didn’t think—“

“Gansey and Adam aren’t the only people who care about you, you know.”

Ronan stares at her, stunned. “I know that, Blue.”

“Whatever,” Blue mutters. 

Blue’s earlier words come back to him again. _I’m just temporary. You’re all going to leave me behind. And I’ll be stuck here._

“They’re not the only people I care about, either,” Ronan says, finally. 

Blue sighs, falls back on the bed. Ronan lays down next to her.

“I know. I just… don’t want to drift apart from anyone. Sometimes you all—even with Gansey and Henry, they get all _Aglionby_ sometimes and it’s like—I don’t know. And you and Adam have each other. And things at Fox Way are always—complicated.” She sighs again, weary. “I don’t know. Forget it.”

“Don’t be a dumbass, Sargent. You have all of us. You always will, alright?”

Blue doesn’t say anything, just knocks her shoulder against his gratefully, and that’s that.

 

*

 

On Thursday, Adam spots Ronan cleaning out his locker. “Lynch?”

“Parrish,” Ronan nods at him.

“I—are you—“

“I’m not coming back,” Ronan confirms. Adam isn’t surprised by this. Ronan hasn’t been attending regularly for a while now. 

“Oh. When did you decide this?” 

Ronan shrugs. “Last night, I guess. Though I’ve known for a while that I’d be done soon. I don’t… it’s easier now. I don’t need to be here anymore.”

“Did you talk to Gansey about it?”

“Yeah. And he told me about his plan to fucking sell Monmouth to get me a diploma—“ 

“ _What?_ ” 

“Yeah. That’s scrapped, thank fuck. So, we fought, but—he finally accepted it, I think.” 

“That’s good.” 

“Yeah. And I, uh—I’m not staying at Monmouth anymore, either. I’m going to move all my stuff to the Barns soon.”

There’s a lump in Adam’s throat. He’s glad that Ronan feels okay enough to quit Aglionby for good and has healed enough to move back to the Barns, but a selfish part of him wishes he wouldn’t. As sporadic as Ronan’s attendance at Aglionby had been, he had gotten used to flirting with him in the hallways, sitting before Latin together, holding his hand under the table at lunch. And with Ronan permanently at the Barns, Adam will be seeing him less than ever. 

“Parrish?” Ronan says when Adam goes quiet.

Adam swallows. “Yeah, that’s—good. I’m glad.” 

“I’m not going to the Barns until late tonight, though, so—I can pick you up after work.”

Adam takes Ronan’s hand in his. There are a few people whispering and staring, which has been the norm since everyone found out about them, but Adam ignores them. “Sure.”

Adam’s voice has gone slightly breathy, and he hates it. His mind can’t stop thinking about Friday. He rubs circles into Ronan’s wrists, above his leather bands. Ronan moves closer, and his gaze is intense on Adam’s. They’re not quite at kissing openly at school, yet, but Adam thinks the way Ronan is looking at him right now is surely worse than any PDA. 

“See you tonight,” Ronan whispers.

 

*

 

When Ronan picks him up after work, Adam tells him to keep driving instead of dropping him off at St. Agnes. It’s the first days of December but surprisingly, the weather outside is nice enough to lay down in the grass and look up at the stars. They don’t speak much, just lie in the empty field in the middle of nowhere and enjoy each other’s presence.

It should be peaceful, and it _is,_ but there’s still the heat that’s coursing through Adam, now stronger than ever. Adam turns to look at Ronan, and finds that Ronan is already looking at him. They’re close enough that their shoulders are touching, and Adam only has to lean in a tiny bit to press their lips together.

The kiss starts out chaste. Adam tells himself to curb his hunger, that tomorrow they will be at the Barns and that they don’t have much time now anyways since it’s late and Adam still has homework to finish, but somehow he ends up climbing on top of Ronan, somehow Ronan’s hands find their way into their hair, somehow Adam’s hand starts to feel up Ronan’s thigh. 

When Adam bites down on his lip, Ronan lets out a groan and arches up into him. Adam gasps as he feels Ronan hard against him again, and before he can think about, he’s grinding down into the other boy, and then he’s as hard as Ronan is.

Ronan hisses out a muffled “ _Fuck_ ,” and Adam pulls back.

“Sorry,” Adam manages. “Sorry, I’m—“ 

Ronan cuts him off with a rough kiss, and then they’re moving against each other. Adam is dizzy with the feeling, dizzy with the sounds Ronan is making against his mouth. Adam starts to kiss along Ronan’s throat and rocks harder and faster against him, and Ronan lets out a string of swears that is music to Adam’s ears. 

“Oh my fucking god. Oh my god. Oh my—“ Ronan breaks off into a moan as Adam sucks a bruise above his collarbone.

Adam kisses up to his ear and bites his earlobe. “Shit. _Shit_. Fuck, fuck, _Adam_.” 

Adam traces Ronan’s lip with his fingers, not quite putting them in his mouth but teasing the edges, and rolls his hips once more. “Adam, I’m— _oh_ , _fuck._ “

The hoarse shout is all the warning Adam gets before Ronan comes in his pants, having lasted a couple minutes at most. Adam stills against Ronan’s skin in surprise as Ronan gasps and twitches through aftershocks, and later he wishes he could’ve seen Ronan’s face.

When he does eventually pull back, Ronan’s face is flushed red and he looks vaguely mortified. Adam hadn’t intended for either of them to reach quite this point yet, and from the looks of it, Ronan hadn’t expected it either. Adam is oddly endeared and thrilled by the fact that he can drive Ronan to this state so quickly, without even touching him. Though, maybe it shouldn’t be surprising. They’re eighteen-year-old teenage boys who hadn’t gone farther than second base and who’d been lusting after each other for too long – Ronan much longer than him.

“Shit,” Ronan pants, breathing heavily. “I didn’t mean to—sorry.”

Adam lets out a breathless, giddy laugh and kisses Ronan, once, sloppy. “It’s fine.” 

Ronan scowls at him. “Don’t be a dick.” 

“I’m not!” Adam kisses him again, soft. “Really, it’s fine. You’re good, Ronan,” He murmurs, and Ronan exhales unsteadily. Adam rolls off of Ronan and lies next to him again. He’s still painfully hard. 

Ronan notices and asks, tentatively, “Do you want…” 

Adam does want, but he just takes Ronan’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together, and says, “Nah. We should probably leave something for tomorrow.”

Ronan looks at him, expression complicated. “Okay.”

“Sorry,” Adam adds, feeling guilty. He shouldn’t have gotten carried away. “I know you wanted to wait until—at the Barns—“

“S’fine,” Ronan says. The he grins at Adam lecherously. “Not like there isn’t plenty of other stuff we can do tomorrow.”

Adam rolls his eyes and lightly whacks him on the chest, and Ronan lets out a sharp laugh.

After a few minutes of laying in companionable silence, Adam sighs and gets up. “We should get back.”

When they reach St. Agnes, Ronan leans in to kiss Adam, slow and sweet and full of feeling. Adam’s heart stutters in his chest.

“See you tomorrow?” Ronan whispers against his mouth. 

Adam presses a light kiss to Ronan’s forehead and pulls away, smiling. “Yeah, Lynch.”

 

*

 

After school and before his shift on Friday, Adam joins Gansey, Blue, Henry, and Ronan at Nino’s. He takes more than a minute to get his stuff together, so of course Ronan bangs on his door impatiently. 

“Took you long enough, Jesus,” Ronan says when Adam opens the door. “The fuck were you doing in there?” 

Just to see the other boy’s reaction, Adam replies, all casual, “I was jerking off,” and then brushes past a suddenly flustered Ronan. 

They sit pressed together in the Pig, Blue looks at them from the passenger seat and raises her eyebrows at Ronan, her lips turned up in a knowing smirk. Adam wonders what that’s about. 

Adam’s hand rests on Ronan’s knee, itching to travel higher. When they’re in booth at Nino’s, it does. Ronan goes still as Adam’s fingers trace his inner thigh. In possible retaliation, Ronan’s hand curves around Adam’s lower back, skimming the bit of bare skin right above his ass. Adam’s breath hitches. 

Soon, Adam has to leave for work, and Ronan gets up with him, taking Gansey’s keys to unlock the Pig’s trunk so Adam can take out his bike. 

They’re silent as they walk to the car and as Adam retrieves his bike.

Then, Ronan clears his throat. “You still coming over tonight?”

“Yeah.” Adam pauses, considering Ronan’s uncertain expression. “Did you think I’d change my mind?” 

Ronan shrugs, looking down at his shoes. “It’s okay if you do. We don’t have to do anything.” 

Adam takes Ronan’s hands in his, squeezing them. “I know that. I _want_ to.” It’s actually a little embarrassing how much Adam wants to. 

“Okay,” Ronan replies simply. 

“Okay,” Adam repeats, and kisses him.

 

*

 

When Adam reaches the Barns that night, the stars bright above him, Opal is running through the fields with Ronan trying to catch her. 

“Opal, are you fucking tired yet? I’m about to break my back. And it’s fucking cold out here.”

Opal lets out a laugh that is more creature than girl and taunts, “Old man!”

“You take that back,” Ronan wheezes as he finally comes to a stop, bending over to catch his breath. “You can only call Gansey old man, I told you. You can’t use my own lingo against me, brat.” 

“You got outrun by an eight year old, Lynch,” Adam says as he walks towards Ronan, grinning.

Ronan notices him and his face automatically lights up in a smile. “Not fair, Parrish. She has hooves.” 

“Whatever you need to believe to make yourself feel better,” Adam replies cheerfully.

“Adam!” Opal shrieks. She runs over to them. “Give me a piggyback ride!” 

Ronan makes an annoyed sound. “Cheng gave her a piggyback ride a few days ago and now she wants one all the goddamn time.” 

Adam bends down and Opal jumps on his back, wrapping her hooves along his front. She’s heavier than expected because of her hooves but still easy enough to carry.

Ronan shakes his head in mock admonishment. “How is she going to learn discipline if you give in to her every demand, Parrish?” 

“You’re one to talk,” Adam retorts. “You give her everything she asks for.”

“Not true. She asked for a sip of my beer yesterday and I said no.”

“Yeah, you’re a real hard ass, Lynch.”

They walk towards the main house, and Opal giggles and drops a kiss on the top of Adam’s head. Adam smiles up at her fondly, and Ronan stares at them with an unbelievably soft and adoring expression. 

“You eat dinner already?” Ronan asks once they’re inside. 

It’s 8:30 pm and Adam has only eaten a thin sandwich at work since his lunch at school. “Yeah,” he replies. Ronan gives him a look. “I _did_ eat. It wasn’t much, but…” He shrugs, an unspoken _I’m used to it_ tacked on at the end.

Ronan starts rummaging around in the kitchen, while Opal watches some cartoon on the TV in the living room. 

“What are you doing?” Adam asks Ronan. 

“Making you some pasta.” 

Adam stares. “I—Seriously?” 

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to—“ 

“Opal already had some earlier, all the shit’s ready, now shut the fuck up and let me cook, Parrish.”

Adam keeps staring. Eventually, Ronan lets out an annoyed sigh and whirls on him. “ _What?_ Why are you looking at me like that? You’re not gonna get all pissy about not accepting some fucking dinner from me are you because—“

“It’s attractive,” Adam blurts out.

Ronan opens his mouth, closes it. “What?”

“I mean… your whole… you knowing how to… your cooking and… and taking care of…” Adam stammers, fumbling for words and wanting the ground to swallow him. What he really means is, _your whole domestic housewife act_ but he’d rather jump off of a moving train than say that. 

“Jesus. Is this really a turn on for you? Do you want me to put on a goddamn apron for later?” 

“Shut up. No. Get back to your pasta.” 

Ronan rolls his eyes and turns back around. Adam walks over to him and runs his fingers lightly over the small of his back. Ronan stills.

“When’s Opal going to bed?” Adam murmurs in Ronan’s ear, his hand skimming over his jean-clad ass.

“S-soon,” Ronan says, voice strained.

Adam can hardly breathe through the desire burning inside him. “Good.”

“So this _is_ a turn on for you,” Ronan replies, and Adam can hear the grin in his voice.

Adam ignores him and sits at the table. He eats the pasta in silence when it’s ready, while Ronan reluctantly watches Fairly Odd Parents with Opal.

Adam soon joins them on the couch, Opal sitting in between the two boys. 

Opal looks at the screen, and then at Adam and Ronan, her expression thoughtful. She says, tone serious, “Kerah is like Cosmo and Adam is Wanda. Right?”

Ronan snorts. “You’re way better than Timmy, though. He’s a dumbass. Always getting himself into stupid shit.” 

“Then that would mean you’re Timmy,” Adam points out. 

“Fuck off, Parrish.” 

Opal is nearly asleep before the episode’s over, and they both tuck her in. Declan’s old room now looks nothing like it used to. Ronan has filled it with his dreams, making the space as wondrous as Opal herself. The walls and ceiling are covered with sparkling vines and lichen, and star-shaped orbs hang from above, rendering the room a dreamland.

Ronan tells Opal, voice uncharacteristically soft, “Hey, if you have a nightmare again, just knock on my door, alright?”

“ _Non timeo,”_ Opal says, stubborn.

Ronan combs through her golden hair, gently. “It’s okay to be scared, brat. But we won’t let anything happen to you.”

She’s trembling a little, now, and Adam, who is standing beside the bed, takes her hand in his. “Has she been having a lot of nightmares lately?” 

Ronan nods. “The past few nights have been… bad.”

“Maybe we should stay with her. She’s shaking, Ronan.”

Opal shakes her head. “ _Bene sum_ ,” she insists. _I’m fine_. But they can both tell that she’s terrified.

“We’re staying here,” Adam says, firm. “Come on, move over.” 

Opal lets out a weak, “ _Kerah_ ,” but Adam can tell she’s relieved.

Adam and Ronan lay down on either side of Opal. It’s a tight fit but none of them mind. Adam looks at Ronan and mouths _tomorrow,_ to which Ronan gives an almost-smile and nod. It isn’t even a question; making sure Opal feels safe is more important than any plans they may have had for tonight.

Opal tentatively turns towards Ronan and presses her face into his side, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head. They all fall asleep huddled together, and none of them have any nightmares.

 

*

 

Adam wakes up while Ronan and Opal are still sleeping, so he leaves a post it note telling Ronan that he had to leave for work and that he’d come back tonight.

When Adam rings the bell that night, Ronan opens the door and Adam grins at him in greeting. Ronan smiles back, almost shyly, and they walk up to Ronan’s room wordlessly. Adam doesn’t ask where Opal is; Blue had already informed him that she’d be at Fox Way for the night, safely sleeping in Blue’s bed. When Adam enters Ronan’s room, Ronan closing the door behind him, his breath catches.

He’s been in this room several times by now, but it’s the first time it’s looked like _this_. The only light is coming from candles placed all around the room; they’re nothing like normal candles, though. The flames change from blue to silver to gold to orange, shaped like stars and flowers and leaves. On the ceiling, it looks as if stars are whirring and twinkling, a galaxy unlike any other above them. They’re arranged in constellations shaped like beaks and claws.

Ronan is looking at Adam uncertainly as he takes all of this in, studying his reaction. Adam steps closer, taking his hands in his. Ronan’s expression is a mixture of joy and trepidation, mirroring Adam’s own. Adam’s heart is a wild thing in his chest, pulse so loud he’s sure Ronan must be able to hear it.

Adam leans in so they’re cheek to cheek, so Ronan’s shaky breaths are hot in his hearing ear, and he kisses him, softly, trails kisses from his ear to his jaw. When he reaches Ronan’s mouth, they pause for a second, a breath apart, stopping time for a moment.

Then Adam crashes their lips together and the gentleness gives way to heat and desire.

Adam doesn’t waste any time. His hands immediately go to Ronan’s jeans, and he hastily unbuttons them and pulls down the zipper, hearing Ronan’s breath hitch as he does. Ronan pulls back and kicks his jeans off, and then Adam is pushing him down onto the bed and climbing on top of him.

Ronan’s hands are gripping Adam’s hair, Adam’s hands travel under Ronan’s t-shirt. Adam bites Ronan’s bottom lip, and Ronan groans loudly, tightening his grasp on his hair. As Adam kisses his way down Ronan’s neck, he shoves his thigh in between Ronan’s legs and feels Ronan hard against him. 

Ronan hisses out a choked “ _Shit_ ,” the first word that’s been spoken since Adam arrived, and Adam’s hands tease the hem of his boxers. Ronan stills, and Adam pulls back, looking at Ronan’s flushed face, his wide, dark eyes, his parted, kiss swollen lips. 

Adam swallows, and asks, voice hoarse. “Can I?” 

Ronan nods frantically and says, voice high, “Fuck, I—yes. Jesus.”

Adam smirks and without preamble, pulls Ronan’s boxers down around his knees. For a moment, Adam just stares.

When it goes on for too long, Ronan lets out a huff. “Are you fucking memorizing it or something? Get on with it.” He tries to seem nonchalant, but his tone is far from it. Ronan is all bravado.

Adam flushes despite himself and mutters a _Shut up, Lynch_ before attaching his lips to Ronan’s collarbone and putting his hand on him.

Ronan tugs at Adam’s hair almost painfully, letting out a broken, “ _Jesus fuck_.” Adam feels one hand leave his hair, and when he looks up, Ronan has a fist in his mouth.

Adam grabs his fist and pulls at it, shaking his head. “Don’t,” Adam breathes, low, hardly recognizing his own voice. “I—I want to hear you.” 

Ronan exhales shakily and complies, gripping the sheets instead.

As Adam licks along Ronan’s throat and shoulder, he doesn’t register much besides the wonderful noises Ronan’s making.

“Oh god, oh my god, oh my fucking god, god, god, _Adam_ ,” _–_ Adam quickens his pace, and Ronan lets out incoherent noises before getting back to a mixture of swears and Adam’s name – “Jesus motherfucking _Christ,_ Adam,” – Adam licks the bit of tattoo that’s peaking out – “Christ and Mary _fuck_ ,” – Adam bites his shoulder – “Oh fucking Christ, _Christ_ , fucking Christ.”

Adam pulls away and looks the other boy in the eye as he slowly puts two fingers into Ronan’s mouth. Ronan’s eyes go wide and then roll back as he closes his lips around Adam’s fingers and sucks, muffled moans and gasps still escaping. Adam’s other hand increases its pace again and Ronan’s eyes jolt open, wide and dark. Adam takes his fingers out and Ronan continues yelling curses in a strangled voice, louder than ever.

“Jesus goddamn motherfucking Christ, fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , I’m gonna—“ And that’s all the warning he gets before Ronan goes rigid and comes forcefully into his hand with a guttural yell of Adam’s name. Adam doesn’t take his eyes away from him, watching Ronan as he comes undone. 

Adam kisses Ronan’s jaw as the other boy twitches and catches his breath. Adam wipes his hand on the sheets, pulls Ronan’s boxers back up, and rolls off of him, collapsing beside him. He can hardly think about anything but Ronan’s loud gasps and Ronan’s face and Ronan being taken apart quicker than ever, barely lasting a minute with only Adam’s hand on him.

The room is silent except for Ronan’s harsh breathing. Adam turns to look at Ronan, and gets a surge of pride from how utterly _wrecked_ he looks, face flushed and mouth parted and breathing like he’d just ran a marathon. Ronan turns his head to look at Adam, opens his mouth, closes it. Adam just stares, still heady from the knowledge of the effect he has on Ronan. 

Finally, Ronan says, slightly strangled, more than slightly awkward, “So. That, uh… that was… it was… shit.”

Adam raises an eyebrow. “It was shit?”

Ronan huffs, “Asshole. You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t, actually. Please elaborate.” Adam tries and fails from keeping the smug smile off his face. 

Ronan glares at him. “Shut your mouth, Parrish.” 

Adam’s smirk turns into a full out grin. “Oh, so, now it’s _Parrish_ again?”

Ronan flushes deeper and mutters something under his breath. Adam doesn’t hear him, his attention now on his own needs. Suddenly, even though he has wanted nothing but this for weeks now, Adam is inexplicably afraid of Ronan taking him apart.

Ronan had looked beautiful undone; he was a wild, uncontrolled god, laid bare, his walls broken down, leaving only his need for Adam in their place.

But Adam won’t look like that. Adam will be _seen_ , all the way to his dirty core. Ronan will see him, will know him and Adam won’t have anything left to hide behind. 

Adam sits up abruptly and says, throat dry, not looking at Ronan, “I’m—I’m just gonna—uh, you know. Take care of this.”

He walks quickly to the bathroom door, but then Ronan is hastily coming after him. Adam takes a deep breath and turns around, his back against the door.

Ronan’s wide eyes are unsure but wanting. “Adam,” He breathes, voice full of something like worship. “Adam, I can—I want—I want to—I can do it for you, Adam.” Then he drops to his knees and Adam’s heart stops beating. 

“You—you don’t have to,” Adam manages weakly. 

Ronan is looking up at him, eyelashes thick and light eyes fills with desire. “I _want_ to. Adam, I have wanted—let me—I want to, Adam,” he says again, swallowing audibly. He can’t seem to stop saying Adam’s name, and Adam doesn’t want him to.

Adam exhales unevenly. He had always considered himself unknowable, and part of him was glad for that trait; if people knew him, if they saw through him, he was sure that they wouldn’t like what they saw. He would be laid bare before Ronan, would let go of any semblance of control.

But Ronan has already seen him, already knows him better than anyone else possibly can.

Adam is still silent, and Ronan starts to look insecure, starts to get up and apologize. “Nevermind, I won’t—sorry—“

“No,” Adam says, voice trembling. “I—you can. I want you to.” 

“Are you sure?” 

Adam nods. “I’m sure.” 

Ronan settles back down and raises shaking fingers to unbutton Adam’s jeans. Adam watches Ronan’s eyelashes low over his eyes as he clumsily undoes them and pulls them down his knees. Adam is embarrassingly hard, and he gasps when Ronan mouths at him through his boxers, his head falling back and hitting the door with a thump. His hands are clenched into fists.

Ronan hesitates at the waistband of his boxers, looking up at Adam, a question in his eyes. Adam nods, and then Adam is bare before the other boy.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Ronan breathes with reverence.

Adam looks at Ronan’s face, and it’s almost too much to see the awe and wonder on it. Ronan stares and stares and stares, and Adam says, face heating up, “Are you fucking memorizing it or something?”

Ronan gives him an unimpressed look at his words being thrown back at him, but then he says, voice low, “I want to memorize it.”

And then, before Adam can react to his words, he’s gripping Adam’s hips and kissing a horizontal line right below Adam’s navel. Adam digs his nails into his fists so hard he’s sure his hands are starting to bleed, and bites his lip, painfully, to stop the needy noise that was sure to escape him.

Ronan notices, and raises an eyebrow. “If I’m not allowed to be quiet, then neither are you, Parrish.” 

Adam glares at him, but complies. Not that it will really change much – Adam is quiet about everything, he always had to be, and this is no different.

Adam thinks Ronan will finally get started, but instead he bites and licks around his inner thigh, drawing out quiet gasps from him.

When Ronan is still taking his time, Adam thumps him on the head and huffs, impatiently, “ _Ronan_.”

Ronan looks at him and lets out a breathy chuckle, and then, without warning, his mouth is on him. At the first moment of feeling Ronan’s mouth, Adam thinks he’s going to die right at that instant, and he’s going to be okay with it. He gasps loudly, and one hand grabs Ronan’s shoulder while his other grasps at Ronan’s shaved head, digging into his skull, at which Ronan makes a pleased noise.

Adam leans his head back and closes his eyes, unable to stop his heavy pants and breaths, his hands holding on tighter and tighter to Ronan. 

Ronan pulls off for a moment and says, “Adam,” softly, and Adam knows from the tone of his voice that he wants to look at him. So Adam opens his eyes and looks down as Ronan takes him in again. 

Adam almost has to close his eyes again. The eye contact makes him feel too vulnerable, and more than that, the look in Ronan’s eyes is too much. It feels surreal to Adam that Ronan Lynch is doing this, is on his knees with worship in his eyes.

When Ronan adds his hand to the mix, Adam lets out a quiet gasp of Ronan’s name and jerks his hips forward. Adam is about to apologize, but Ronan makes a needy sound at the back of his throat, so Adam does it again.

Adam feels it building inside him before long, and he gasps, “Ronan, I can’t—I’m going to—“ He tries to pull Ronan away but Ronan just takes him in deeper, and when Adam finishes with soft groan, he swallows without hesitation.

When Ronan pulls off, Adam is breathing hard and his hands are still tightly clutching Ronan. Ronan pulls his boxers back up, discarding his jeans, and kisses his hipbone lightly. 

“Fuck,” Adam finally says, voice hoarse. “Fuck, Ronan.” 

Ronan smiles against his skin and then stands up, pressing feather-light kisses to his collarbone, his throat, right below his ear.

“You didn’t have to—you know,” Adam whispers.

Ronan’s breath is hot in his right ear when he whispers back, “I wanted to. You taste good.”

“Jesus,” Adam breathes, shivering at the words, equal parts aroused and appalled. He seriously doubts that latter statement. 

Ronan pulls back and smiles at him, and Adam pulls him in by the neck and kisses him sloppily. “Jesus,” Adam repeats against his mouth. “Jesus, Jesus.”

Ronan laughs lightly, and soon Adam is laughing too, unable to stop, and he has to break away. Adam’s laugh turns slightly hysterical, and Ronan just watches him, bewildered. 

“Come on, Parrish, I wasn’t that bad,” Ronan says, and for a moment Adam thinks he’s actually offended. He starts to apologize and assure him that he wasn’t laughing at him when he sees that Ronan is grinning, amused.

Adam just presses his forehead into Ronan’s shoulder, still laughing a little. Ronan’s arm wraps around his lower back, and the other strokes the hair at the nape of his neck.

When Adam finally stops laughing enough to speak, he says, again, “Jesus.” Then, “I can’t believe that just happened.”

“You’re telling me,” Ronan says into Adam’s ear, and there’s something strangely vulnerable and raw and his voice. Adam pulls back, questioning, and Ronan looks away from him, clearing his throat. “I just— for so long I never thought that would actually happen outside of my dreams.” 

Adam’s breath stutters. “You dreamed about this?”

Ronan turns pink. “’Course I fucking dreamt about it.” 

Adam smiles wide and then he’s pulling Ronan to the bed wordlessly, their fingers laced together. They lie down side by side, and Adam turns to look at Ronan.

“So,” Adam says, all casual, “What else did you dream about?”

Ronan stares at him, face impassive. “Lots of things.” 

Adam swats at him. “Tell me.”

Ronan doesn’t say anything, just takes the hand lying next to him and brings it to his mouth. Ronan’s lips are impossibly gentle as he kisses his wrist, then his palm, then each of his fingers. Adam’s breath hitches, and he realizes too late what Ronan is doing.

“This,” Ronan says softly. Then he leans up on an elbow and with his other hand, lightly traces Adam’s cheekbone. “This.” He runs his fingers through Adam’s hair tenderly, and again whispers, “This.” Ronan presses a kiss to Adam’s forehead. “This.” He lays his head on Adam’s chest, and Adam’s arms instinctively wrap around him, holding him to his heart. “This,” Ronan whispers finally, voice muffled due to the way his face is pressed into Adam’s t-shirt. Adam almost doesn’t hear it.

Adam’s heart is beating so fast he’s sure that it’s going to burst out of his chest. The lump in his throat is so big that he physically cannot bring himself to speak around it. He’s filled with so much warmth and happiness and affection that he’s not sure he can take it, so much of it that it almost _hurts_. He remembers something Blue said once: _It’s like that strange happiness that_ _comes from loving something without knowing why you do, that strange happiness that is sometimes so big that it feels like sadness._

Adam feels himself trembling, and he breathes in and out shakily, blinking back tears. He runs his fingers over Ronan’s short hairs, his back, hoping his touch can express everything that he can’t say.

After a while of lying there like that, Adam says, thickly, “Ronan.”

Ronan pulls back and looks at Adam. Adam knows his eyes have a wet sheen, knows that he’s opening and closing his mouth without words coming out, knows that his overflowing heart is written all over his face. Ronan just takes in his expression and kisses him deeply, and Adam’s hands come up to cradle his face, thumb running over the stubble on his jaw.

Adam doesn’t have the words to express the feeling inside him, so he just says, between furious kisses, “God, _god,_ you’re such an asshole. You’re such a fucking asshole.”

Ronan just laughs against this mouth, and kisses down to his throat.

“You’re an asshole,” Adam says again, voice strained. 

“You mentioned that,” Ronan murmurs against his skin.

Ronan finally pulls away and lies back down, both of them facing each other.

“Parrish,” Ronan blurts out suddenly, sounding strangely nervous. “Have you, uh… done that before? I mean, not that specifically, just, you know, whatever you’ve—with a girl—“ He breaks off, gnaws on his leather bands. 

Adam’s voice is soft when he replies. “Oh, um. No, I haven’t. I’ve barely gotten to second base with anyone else. You’re… you’re the first.” 

“Oh,” Ronan breathes. “Right. Okay.”

Then Adam smirks. “I’m sure I’m not your first, though. Ronan Lynch, notorious seducer of anything that breathes. You’ve probably lost count by now." 

Ronan snorts. “You got me there, Parrish. You’re just another insignificant one night stand in the line.”

Adam puts on a mock hurt expression. “I knew it.” 

Ronan grins and kisses him, passionately, and the way his lips move against Adam’s say, _You’re the only one._  

Adam stares at Ronan for a few moments, and then says, tentatively, “Can I ask you something?”

And because Ronan Lynch is an actual twelve-year-old, he replies, “You already did.”

Adam rolls his eyes and doesn’t bother to acknowledge that. “I was wondering—is the reason that you didn’t want to go back to St. Agnes that night for this because of the church?”

Ronan looks confused. “I—what?”

“I mean, would you… be uncomfortable doing this right above your church? It’s fine if you are, I just didn’t know if—“

“Oh, that’s not—I don’t really care about that.” Then he snorts. “This is the least of my sins.” 

“Well,” Adam muses, “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, you did blaspheme a hell of a lot tonight.” 

Ronan turns pink at that, and Adam continues, “It’s a good thing you sent Opal to Fox Way. There’s no way she could’ve slept through that.” 

“Asshole,” Ronan says, embarrassed but laughing too.

Adam shrugs, fingers tracing the shell of Ronan’s ear. He leans closer and says, voice low, “I liked it.”

Ronan’s eyes darken and he swallows. “That’s... good to know.” He pauses, serious again. “I—I wanted it to be at the Barns. All my best memories have happened here. I wanted it to be—” He breaks off, but Adam hears the rest of it: _special_.

Adam smiles at him. “Is that why you added the mood lighting and stars? I’m surprised there are no rose petals and champagne.” 

Ronan flushes and mutters, “Shut up, Parrish.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean—I love it, Ronan. It’s… it’s really beautiful.”

Ronan doesn’t say anything, but Adam can see the relief on his face.

“So,” Adam says. “Just to clarify, we _can_ fool around above your church, right?” He almost says _we_ _can have sex_ , but then he’s not sure if this counts as sex. It seems like it’s less straightforward for two boys. Adam wouldn’t know. Adam shakes those thoughts from his head; neither him nor Ronan will be ready for that for a while.

Ronan snorts. “Yeah, dumbass. We can fool around wherever the fuck you want, now.” 

“Just checking.”

“I mean, I’ve already jerked off above it so I figure this can’t be much worse.”

Adam sputtered. “I—you _what_?”

Ronan looks at Adam disdainfully. “You’re surprised? Parrish, I was in your apartment, sleeping on your floor, next to you and your bed, for fucking months. And for most of those months, I didn’t think you’d ever—“ He breaks off.

Adam opens his mouth, closes it. “Well,” he says finally. “Good thing that won’t happen again.”

“What, me getting off in your apartment? I promise you, Parrish, it will.”

“Alone,” Adam clarifies. “You getting off alone.”

Ronan looks taken aback for a second, and then leans over and kisses Adam once, roughly, on the mouth. Adam smiles at him.

“Hey, so,” Ronan says suddenly, grinning, “Your turn. Were you really jerking off before we picked you up yesterday?”

Adam winces. “Jesus, Lynch. No.”

“So, what, you just said that to fuck with me?” 

Adam shrugs. “Pretty much.”

“Shitbag.” 

Adam clears his throat, feels his face heat up. “I mean, I wasn’t… that time.”

Ronan raises a single eyebrow. 

“You’re surprised?” Adam mocks. “I didn’t—not before we were together. I didn’t let myself… actively think about it, or whatever, then. But, uh, the past month… especially when you were there…” Adam finds it ridiculous that he’s blushing, considering what they had just done, but he can’t help it.

Ronan is smirking. “Damn, Parrish. You should have just told me. I would have helped you out.” 

Adam rolls his eyes and lightly punches Ronan’s shoulder, and Ronan laughs.

“Well, at that point I didn’t know if you wanted to.”

Ronan scoffs. “Of course I fucking wanted to. Jesus.”

“I also figured you’d be offended by me doing that at St. Agnes, much less wanting to _help me out_.”

Ronan’s expression turns complicated. “It’s not—“ Ronan breaks off, his tone serious now. 

Adam touches his cheek. “What?”

“In church, I—it was really hard, sometimes. I mean, part of it, a big part, was because—because I liked boys, but that wasn’t…” Ronan trails off again and squeezes his eyes shut. Adam realizes that he’s being trusted with something big, another hidden part of Ronan that he’s giving to Adam. He takes Ronan’s hand and squeezes it, fingers tracing soothing patterns on his palm.

Ronan takes a deep breath and continues. “I used to—I used to ask God what I was, what my dreams meant, what kind of monster I was that I could… I thought I was going to hell for that, more than anything.”

“Ronan…” Adam says softly.

Ronan shakes his head. “I don’t feel that way anymore. Not most of the time, anyways. I mean, I dreamt Matthew and Chainsaw, and brought out Cabeswater and Opal and shit that helped Gansey and—I don’t know. As long as I can dream things that are useful or beautiful, I can’t be too bad, I guess.” He hesitates. “Sometimes I think that’s all I’m good for. At least I can do that for someone, if not anything else.” 

The last part is whispered like a confession, and Adam kisses Ronan gently.

“Ronan,” Adam says when he pulls back, voice earnest and intense, “That’s not all you’re good for. The things you bring out of your dreams are beautiful because they come from your mind. Your dream objects are wondrous and incredible because—because _you_ are. Matthew is so kind because _you_ are. No one else could dream such things, even if they had the ability. They’re that way because they came from inside _you_.” 

There is something raw and vulnerable and childlike in Ronan’s eyes, and Adam needs Ronan to know how incredible he is with a sudden and fierce intensity. 

He strokes Ronan’s cheek again. “You’re a good person, Ronan. You have to know that,” Adam whispers.

Ronan lets out a shaky breath, and Adam knows that Ronan needs to hear that as much as Adam does. They both might logically know that they’re good people. And Ronan, who spent so long hating himself, doesn’t feel that way anymore. But the doubts and insecurities that have been with them for years can’t disappear in mere weeks.

“What if I’m not?” Ronan whispers back, echoing Adam’s words from the day Opal told him that she loved him. 

Adam presses his face into Ronan’s neck and murmurs, “You are. You are. You’re one of the best people I know. I’m so glad I have you, Ronan. I’m so glad.” He kisses his throat. “I’m so glad.” His collarbone. “I’m so glad.”

Adam slides down to put his head on Ronan’s chest, and Ronan’s arms come around him, holding him tight. He doesn’t say anything; Ronan doesn’t need words. So he just kisses Adam’s hair, and Adam mumbles into his chest, half asleep, “I’m so happy that you’re here, Ronan.”

Ronan’s arms tighten around him, and he kisses Adam’s forehead, a silent _thank you_ , and they fall asleep like that.

 

*

 

When Adam wakes up, the first thing he notices is the smell: floral, unnaturally strong, very out of place in a bedroom. Then he opens his eyes and sits up immediately when he registers what he’s seeing.

The entire room is covered with flowers – red roses being the most prominent, but also blue roses (a blue that Adam somehow knows is the exact color of his eyes), orange lilies (which symbolize passion, Adam remembers distantly), lilacs (first love), gardenias (joy and love), others that Adam doesn’t even recognize and that he isn’t sure actually exist.

Which means— Adam turns to Ronan lying next to him, eyes open, paralyzed. Ronan’s arms were also covered in flowers, as was the whole bed. Adam just stares, stunned.

Ronan’s hand twitches, and then he’s gasping and sitting up. When he realizes what happened, his face turns as red as the roses around them. He doesn’t look at Adam.

“Uh—“ Ronan starts, then clears his throat. Closes his mouth. Chews on his leather bracelets.

Adam is smiling so wide it almost hurts. He runs a hand through his hair messy hair. “Wow. It was that good, huh?”

Ronan, impossibly, turns redder. “Shut up, Parrish,” he grits out.

Adam laughs, feeling light and dreamy. He pulls Ronan down onto him and kisses him, tender and lazy, smiling against his mouth.

“So, what were you dreaming about?”

Ronan glares at him.

“Come on, Lynch.” 

Ronan huffs, then starts to kiss Adam’s jaw. “I’ll tell you—someday,” he whispers in Adam’s right ear.

“That a promise?” Adam’s breathing turns into gasps and Ronan kisses down his throat. 

“I don’t lie,” Ronan says against his Adam’s apple.

Ronan is running his palms under Adam’s shirt when a beeping sound goes off and Adam’s groans. 

“I have to get to work,” Adam sighs.

“I have to pick up Opal and go to Mass,” Ronan says, sounding equally reluctant. 

“Okay,” Adam says, getting up. “Let’s go.”

“Parrish,” Ronan says as Adam is putting his jeans back on. “You have flowers in your hair.” 

Adam gives him a look, takes a handful of flowers from the floor, and throws them in Ronan’s face.

 

*

 

Adam is at sitting on the Monmouth couch that afternoon, after work, waiting for Ronan. He knows he went to lunch with Declan and Matthew after Mass. Blue, Gansey, and Henry are out somewhere, so he does homework while he waits.

When Ronan enters, Adam can tell immediately that something is wrong. Ronan had looked deliriously happy this morning, and now his face is tight, weary. Adam puts away his homework and is about to ask what happened when Ronan immediately sprawls on the couch and puts his head on Adam’s lap, facing away from him. 

Adam startles for a second. Adam does this often – collapses against Ronan, head on his lap, after a particularly long and tiring day. This is the first time that Ronan has sought out his comfort in the same specific way, though.

Ronan doesn’t say anything, so Adam quietly runs his hands over his shaved head for some time, the buzz always a pleasant sensation against his skin.

When more silence passes, Adam finally breaks it. “Ronan?” He doesn’t ask _what happened?_ He knows Ronan can hear it in his tone.

Ronan lets out a weary sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Okay,” Adam says simply.

Ronan hesitates, then adds, “Right now. I don’t want to talk about it… right now.” 

“Okay,” Adam says again. “When you do, I’m here.” 

“I know,” Ronan says softly.

Adam leans down and presses a kiss to Ronan’s ear, and watches in amusement as the tip of it turns pink.

Ronan closes his eyes, and though Adam knows he’s not actually asleep, he doesn’t say anything. They just sit in the peaceful quiet.

After at least half an hour has passed like this, Ronan turns onto his back and looks up at Adam. “I fought with Declan.” 

“About what? I thought you guys were doing better.”

“We are. Which is why he was less of a dick than he would have been, but he was still a dick.” 

Adam waits for Ronan to elaborate. 

Ronan sighs. “I… I told him about officially dropping out of Aglionby.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Well. You can guess his reaction. I mean, he should have expected it. I told him a while ago that I wanted to farm. But of course he didn’t fucking take me seriously. And then he—” Ronan breaks off, his voice going uneven.

“What?” Adam asks softly.

“He pulled the fucking ‘Dad would’ve wanted you to’ bullshit. I mean, what the fuck.”

Adam doesn’t tell him that that wasn’t true, because he doesn’t know what Niall Lynch would have wanted. He doesn’t tell him that Declan was wrong to say that, because Ronan already knows.

He just cups Ronan’s cheek in his hand and says, earnest, “I think you’d be a good farmer.” Then he smiles. “And it’s just a plus that you look great in farmer clothes.” 

Ronan breaks into a grin, and Adam’s heart lurches. “You fucking bet I do.”

“School isn’t for you. It obviously never has been. If Declan or Gansey or whoever else can’t respect that, that’s their problem.” 

Ronan takes Adam’s hand and brings it to his mouth. “I was thinking… I mean, I grew up with this shit, so I know a lot about it, but half of it was dream stuff, you know? Dad took the easy way out for a lot of it. I want to learn more about it. Maybe get more real animals in, too, instead of just dreaming them up.”

Adam nods. “That sounds good. I can see it already, you surrounded by deer and squirrels and cows, birds dressing you in the morning and putting flowers in your hair. Like Snow White.”

“Shut the fuck up, Parrish,” Ronan says, laughing. When Ronan drives back to the Barns soon after, he looks significantly lighter.

 

*

 

Adam doesn’t see Ronan again until Tuesday evening, when he runs into him at Fox Way. He’s there to talk to Calla, and Gansey and Henry decide to join him, but he doesn’t expect to see Ronan and Blue grinning at each other across the kitchen table.

When Blue notices them, she lights up. “The whole party’s here.”

Adam walks over to Ronan. “Hey, Lynch. Is Opal here?” 

“Nope. She’s back at the Barns.”

“Oh,” Adam says, perplexed. “So you’re here because…” 

“Because he’s hanging out with me,” Blue snaps. “Don’t look so surprised.” This is addressed to Gansey and Henry as well, who wear matching expressions to Adam.

Adam holds out his hands in surrender. “Hey, hey, it’s just nothin’ I’ve seen before. It’s a good thing, though.”

“A very strange thing,” Gansey adds. “But good.”

Blue and Ronan simultaneously rolls their eyes. 

“Ah, Coca Cola,” Calla’s voice says from the doorway of the kitchen. She walks over to him quickly and says, “I wanted to ask you—JESUS GODDAMN CHRIST!” All five of them jolt at Calla’s loud exclamation, which she yells right when her hand brushes Adam’s shoulder. 

“Jesus Christ. _Jesus Christ._ And I thought what I saw from the Snake was bad— _Jesus Christ._ You know what, forget it, Coca Cola, I need to bleach my eyes first. I’ll talk to you another time.” And with that she walks out of the room, leaving behind a very red-faced Adam and Ronan. 

Gansey, Blue, and Henry are looking at Adam and Ronan with matching expressions, though Blue’s is slightly more knowing.

“So,” Blue says, smirking, “What exactly did Calla see?”

“None of your business,” Adam snaps.

“Ah,” Gansey says, sounding flustered, “So you two, uh—“ 

“Jesus, Gansey, we’re not talking about this,” Adam hisses, turning redder.

“So that’s why Lynch has been so cheery lately,” Henry says, grinning.

Ronan recovers far quicker than Adam. “Oh fuck off. Just because none of you are getting any—“ 

“Quite the contrary, my friend,” Henry interrupts. 

“Okay,” Blue shrills. “Let’s stop talking about our sex lives or lack thereof and get some pizza.” 

They go to Nino’s.

As they sit beside each other in the Pig and in the booth at Nino’s, Adam is acutely aware of Ronan’s skin touching his. As it turns out, giving into his desire only makes him want Ronan more intensely. Now that he _knows_ what it’s like, he can’t stop thinking about it, wanting it.

He went one day without seeing Ronan and he couldn’t stop from missing the heat of Ronan’s lips against his, from jerking off to thoughts of what they did and what more Adam wanted to do.

When Blue, Gansey, and Henry are busy bickering about hypothetical roadtrip plans, Adam leans over and murmurs in Ronan’s ear, his hand sliding from his knee to his inner thigh, “When we get back to St. Agnes, I want to blow you.” 

Ronan’s breath hitches and his ears turn pink. When Adam looks down at his lap moments later, he’s amused to find that Ronan is half hard already. When Adam raises he eyebrows at the other boy, Ronan just scowls and flushes. 

They first go to Fox Way again to get Ronan’s BMW, and then they drive to St. Agnes. The ride there is silent, but Adam can feel Ronan’s heated gaze on him for most of it. They walk wordlessly up to Adam’s apartment, and Adam takes Ronan’s hand and drags him to his shitty mattress. 

He pushes him lightly so Ronan falls ungracefully on the bed, sitting at the edge. Ronan takes both of Adam’s hands and pulls him closer, so he’s standing between his legs. They can’t stop smiling at each other, and Adam presses a clumsy kiss to the top of Ronan’s head and Ronan responds with a breathy laugh. Ronan tilts his face up slightly and Adam leans down, kissing Ronan’s forehead, the furrow between his eyebrows, his temple. Ronan lets out a content sound and wraps his arms around Adam’s waist, pulling him ever closer, hugging Adam’s chest. Adam’s hands come to rest at the back of Ronan’s head, stroking the fine hairs. Ronan’s ear is pressed right over Adam’s heart, and Adam wonders if he can hear how fast it’s beating. Adam presses more kisses to Ronan’s head, lazily, unrushed. 

“Adam,” Ronan mumbles against Adam’s chest, like a prayer.

Then he moves his hands from Adam’s lower back to his ass, slipping under his jeans and cupping it through his boxers. Adam gasps loudly at the sensation. Ronan then attempts to unbutton Adam’s jeans, but Adam bats his hands away. 

“Wait, I—you first. I want…” Adam swallows, then drops to his knees.

Ronan inhales sharply. “Are you sure?” 

Adam nods. Then considers. “Actually, lie back on the bed.” Adam’s mattress is barely higher than the floor, so it doesn’t make for the easiest angle. Ronan complies without a word, and something in Adam thrills. 

Adam joins him, and Ronan lifts his hips so Adam can take off his jeans and boxers. In the back of his mind, Adam registers that they haven't been fully naked in front of each other, that they jump straight to act, and Adam wants to explore Ronan, to see him fully, to start tender and slow and draw it out to its full potential. But right now, Adam doesn't have the patience. He's been starving for far too long, so that will have to wait for another day.

Ronan is hard already. He lifts Ronan’s t-shirt up and kisses below his navel, then across his hipbone. Ronan hisses above him, his hands fisting in the sheets. Adam continues a trail of wet kisses close to where Ronan wants it but not close enough, then does the same up Ronan’s thighs.

“Shit, Parrish, get on with it,” Ronan grits out.

Adam laughs and raises his eyebrows. Ronan just glares at him, leaning up on his elbows. Adam shrugs and continues teasing, until Ronan lies back and lets out something like a whimper. Adam looks at Ronan, who is writhing above him, flushed everywhere, gripping the sheets so hard that Adam’s afraid they might tear.

“Are you really going to make me fucking beg?” Ronan snarls. 

Adam shrugs again, smiling innocently. When Ronan doesn’t say anything further, Adam blows a hot breath over him, and Ronan gasps and jerks his hips up. Adam teases some more, until Ronan finally relents and gasps out a choked, “Fuck, Adam, _please._ ”

Then, it’s just this: Ronan tangling his fingers in Adam’s hair, crying out Adam’s name again and again and again, swearing poetically and explosively.

In barely half a minute, Ronan gasps out, “Adam, I’m close, I’m so—“

Adam pulls off and moves up Ronan’s body, kissing the hollow of Ronan’s throat and gripping him with his hand. A second later, Ronan is coming with a muffled scream in Adam’s pillow.

Adam kisses his shoulder through it, and then pulls his underwear and jeans back on. Ronan is breathing heavily, and his hands come up to gently run his fingers through Adam’s hair as he charts Ronan’s collarbone with his tongue.

“Adam,” Ronan breathes, voice awed and worshipful. Adam lifts his head to look at him, and the look in Ronan’s eyes matches his voice. 

Adam grins. “Good?”

“Fuck you.”

Adam laughs and kisses his mouth. “So, is my apartment also going to be filled with flowers tomorrow morning?”

Ronan glares at him. “You’re such an asshole. And I can’t stay anyways, Opal’s at the Barns. I need to leave soon.” 

Adam sighs, regretful. “Right.”

“So,” Ronan says, flipping them over suddenly so he’s on top and then unbuttoning Adam’s jeans, “We better take care of this soon.” 

Adam gasps and desperately clutches at Ronan’s shoulders as Ronan takes him in his hand, his nails digging into the swirling black lines of Ronan’s tattoo. 

Adam doesn’t know how long it lasts, his mind is all Ronan’s hand and Ronan’s skin and Ronan’s lips on his neck. When Ronan whispers, “Come on, Adam,” in his ear, he lets go with a quiet groan, and his nails digging ever deeper into Ronan’s skin. He vaguely hears Ronan hiss, but his mind is too full of white, fuzzy light to fully register it. 

Adam pants as he comes back to himself. “Fuck,” he says, eloquently. Ronan pulls back and looks at him pointedly. 

“Yeah, clearly, since I’m pretty sure my back is fucking bleeding.” 

Adam sits up hastily. “I— _what_?” 

Ronan turns so Adam can see his back, and Adam is mortified to see that there are angry red scratches on the back of his shoulders, above his tank where Adam had gripped him.

“Fuck—I’m sorry,” Adam says, cringing.

Ronan just grins at him. “It was that good, huh?”

Adam flushes. “Shut up, Lynch.”

Ronan says, solemnly, “I will wear these marks like a badge of honor.”

Adam swats at him, and Ronan grabs his hands and kisses his knuckles. Adam sighs happily.

“I have to go,” Ronan murmurs against the skin of Adam’s wrist. 

“Yeah,” Adam agrees, then pulls him into a lingering kiss. When they pull back, they’re both breathless. “Kiss Opal goodnight for me,” Adam adds.

In response, Ronan kisses his forehead tenderly. “Like that?”

“Yeah. Also, don’t let her eat half of her bed again.”

“Will do, Parrish.”

 

*

 

Adam doesn’t see Ronan for two more days, and Adam misses him with a ridiculous intensity. It really is absurd, but he had gotten used to his daily presence in the Aglionby hallways or lounging at Monmouth or picking him up from work most nights. Now, Ronan is busy with transitioning to the Barns, working to renovate parts of it. Adam is also swamped and unable to make the trip to Singers Falls, with less than two weeks left before winter break and exams and assignments piling up.

When Adam arrives at Monmouth on Friday evening and sees Ronan on the couch, he feels his blood singing.

Adam automatically drops next to him and pulls him into a rough kiss. “Where is everyone?” Adam asks, voice more hoarse than he would like. 

“Blue, Gansey, and Henry are out for dinner. Opal is at the Barns.” Then, he adds, tone suggestive, “We’re alone.”

Adam rolls his eyes, but he feels his heart beat faster, despite his best efforts. Then Ronan attaches his lips to his neck and Adam can’t do anything but lie back on the couch as Ronan’s teeth and tongue make him shiver. Ronan pulls back and lifts his shirt over his head, then tugs at Adam’s. 

“Ronan,” Adam gasps as Ronan trails kisses down his bare chest. “We should—your bedroom.”

“Too far,” Ronan hums, then runs his tongue over Adam’s nipple. Adam groans softly and clutches Ronan’s head.

“They—“ Adam starts, finding it hard to think with the way Ronan is licking under his navel. He tries again, protesting weakly, “They could walk in—“ 

“They won’t be back for a while. But if you really want—“ 

“No,” Adam says abruptly. He can’t move, can’t wait any longer with Ronan’s lips mouthing right above the waistband of his jeans. “Just—God, keep going.”

Ronan smirks against his skin, then unbuttons and unzips his jeans, and just as he’s about pull them down, the door to the second floor of Monmouth opens and then there’s a horrified yell of “Jesus Christ!” 

Adam immediately pushes Ronan away from him, accidentally sending him falling off the couch and onto the floor. 

“What the fuck, Parrish?” Ronan grumbles, rubbing his head and wincing. He stands up and glares at the three newcomers, and Adam stands up too, flushing all the way down his chest and quickly putting his t-shirt back on.

Gansey, Blue, and Henry are standing in the doorway to Monmouth. Gansey’s face is covered with his hands, while Blue and Henry just look amused. 

Adam realizes his pants are still undone, so he hastily zips and buttons them.

“I—sorry,” Adam stammers, turning redder. “We thought—Ronan said you’d be out for a while.”

“You couldn’t fucking knock?” Ronan snarls, not looking embarrassed in the slightest, just annoyed at being interrupted.

“First of all,” Gansey says, “I live here. Second of all, you should have heard us come in downstairs. And third of all, your bedroom is literally _right there_. You couldn’t walk ten feet over?”

“Well I guess we’ll have to, now,” Ronan retorts. Then he lifts Adam up, bridal style, and starts towards his bedroom.

“Lynch!” Adam shrieks, turning redder. “Put me down!” 

“Nope,” Ronan responds, grinning. Blue and Henry are sniggering loudly.

“Ronan, I swear to god—“

“Uh, just reminding you two that these walls are _not_ soundproof,” Gansey interjects, sounding pained.

Ronan considers this, then puts Adam down. “Thank fuck—“ Adam starts, but then Ronan’s eyes light up and he picks Adam up once again, putting him over his shoulder this time. 

“ _LYNCH!”_ Adam yells, thumping Ronan’s back, though without much heat. 

“Sorry, Parrish, but anywhere within hearing distance is off limits. Time to try out the backseat.”

Blue wrinkles her nose. “Too much information.”

Adam is still wriggling in Ronan’s arms. “Stay the fuck still,” Ronan grumbles.

“Really, Parrish, I thought you’d be enjoying the view,” Henry says.

Ronan’s ass _is_ a pretty great view, but Adam isn’t about to admit that.

“I know, right?” Ronan says. “I’m insulted, honestly. It’s almost like you don’t like being in my arms.” But he finally lets Adam go.

Adam glares at him. “You’re such an asshole.” 

Ronan ignores him. Gansey clears his throat. “I was thinking we could all put in a movie for the night and order pizza, but if you guys want to—er—“

“We’ll join you, Gansey,” Adam says at the same time that Ronan says, “Fuck no, we’re leaving.” 

Then, “Seriously, Parrish?”

“Yeah,” Adam replies simply, and then sits on the floor in front of the couch. Ronan sighs and sits next to him.

They watch a movie and eat pizza and when Blue gets blankets, Ronan wraps one around both of them and holds his hand under it, and Adam feels _warm, warm, warm_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My personal headcanons are that Ronan is unabashed about any explicit displays of affection in front of their friends, but is embarrassed about the tender stuff, while Adam is the opposite. Idk I hope this wasn't too awful. Future chapters will have some smut sprinkled in but, not this much and not this detailed. 
> 
> (Oh, and Ronan was dreaming about their wedding when he brings back the flowers, btw :D)


	10. only to come back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he dreams, he dreams that Adam is gone. He’s in California or New York or Boston or out of the fucking country and he’s not coming back, not ever. It’s not like Ronan hadn’t been worrying about this, anyways. He had, every day, ever since they first kissed. They hadn’t talked about it, though, not once. Ronan was too afraid to bring it up, and Adam never did, either. But after today, it seems that Ronan’s fears are confirmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told myself I wouldn't write more smut but I Lied. This chapter goes back and forth between pure angst and tooth-rotting fluff. Also, thank you again for all the lovely comments. I am making my way through them... very, very slowly. But I really appreciate them a lot <3

On Saturday, December 11th, Adam finds a mixtape in the Hondayota cassette player, labeled _In The Backseat_ , with songs such as “Your Body is a Wonderland”, “Birthday Sex”, and “Sex on Fire.” Adam rolls his eyes and shakes his head fondly. 

On Sunday, December 12th, Adam finds an emerald scarf on the seat of his car. It’s always warm, and as soon as he puts it on, he immediately stops shivering. 

On Tuesday, December 14th, Adam finds a watch under his pillow. He still hadn’t bought a new one after he gave his old one to Opal, and it could be difficult to get by without it. He couldn’t afford a new one yet, though. This new watch is simple, elegant, and Adam finds that it’s waterproof and it never gets dirty.

On Wednesday, December 15th, Adam finds a cell phone on the seat of the Hondayota. It’s not overly fancy, but it has all the features Adam would need, and then some. After school, Adam drives to the Barns, trying to keep his frustration in check and failing miserably.

Ronan is sprawled on the couch, and Opal is napping in his lap, snoring quietly. He breaks into grin when he sees Adam. “Parrish. Didn’t know you were planning on coming today.”

“I wasn’t,” Adam says, clipped.

Ronan frowns at Adam’s tone and raises an eyebrow in question.

Adam inclines his head towards Opal, and Ronan gets up slowly, gently laying Opal’s on the couch. Adam starts towards Ronan’s bedroom, and Ronan follows him. Once they’re inside, Ronan closes the door behind him and leans against it, crossing his arms, defensive already. 

Adam sighs and takes the cell phone out of his pocket and hands it to Ronan.

Ronan’s expression tightens. “I already have one of those, Parrish, but thanks.”

And just like that, Adam goes from annoyed to angry. “I don’t want it, Lynch.”

“And why the fuck not? You need one. And I didn’t spend money on it, you know that, so I don’t know why you’re pissing yourself over it.”

“That’s not the _point._ ” 

“Then what is? Am I just never allowed to give you anything?”

“Oh fuck off, that’s not true and you know it. I took the mixtapes and—and the lotion, the rent, the watch, the scarf, all of it. But you can’t just give me _everything_ , Ronan. And you can’t just leave something like this in my car without talking to me about it. I’ve been saving up for a cell phone for months now, and I’ll be able to buy one in a couple weeks.” 

Ronan snorts. “Yeah, what, some prepaid piece of shit that doesn’t even have a camera?”

Adam goes rigid all over. “I’ve been working my ass off for that _prepaid piece of shit_ , you asshole.” 

“Alright, another thing – why the fuck are you still working so much? After everything that’s happened, you could at least let go of one job or cut down your hours—“

Adam lets out a bitter laugh. “Everything that’s happened doesn’t magically make me rich. You don’t get it. I still need to work as hard and study as much and—“

“You don’t _need_ to, you’re just too fucking stubborn to—“ 

“ _Shut up,_ ” Adam hisses, his temper flaring to alarming degrees, suddenly totally and completely done with this fight. “Just shut the fuck up, Ronan, before I say something I regret.”

Ronan’s expression shutters at the venom in Adam’s voice, and then he sneers. “Whatever, Parrish.” Then he breaks the phone in his hand in half and walks out. 

Adam counts to ten. Then he counts to ten again. Then he leaves the Barns and drives back to St. Agnes.

 

*

 

He doesn’t see or talk to Ronan for three days. It’s not difficult to avoid each other now that Ronan’s not at Monmouth or Aglionby. He certainly isn’t going to be the first one to break the ice, not when he’s sure in his belief that he’s right.

Adam is better at accepting things from his friends now. He knows that they’re not charity or pity. He doesn’t balk at small gifts and occasional treats. But that doesn’t mean Ronan can just dream everything for him and be a dick about it.

He feels as if this is the first real fight they've had since they started dating, the first time the anger that was always lurking beneath the surface of both of them exploded just like it used to in the early days of their friendship. He doesn't know what that means. It's not like he expected their problems to go away. But _something_ has to be different, if they really want this to work. 

After Latin class on Friday, Gansey approaches him. “Is everything okay between you and Ronan?”

Adam tenses. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I went to the Barns yesterday… Ronan was in a mood.” 

“He’s always in a mood.”

“Adam.” Gansey doesn’t say anything more but Adam can hear it all in his tone. 

“If you’re so concerned, why don’t you ask Ronan?” Adam snaps. “He’s the one who was an asshole. It’s not always my responsibility to fix things.” Then he walks away without giving Gansey a chance to respond.

It’s almost midnight on Saturday when there’s a knock on his apartment. 

Adam wordlessly lets Ronan in, and then shuts the door and stares at him, arms hugging his chest.

Ronan looks down at his shoes, hands in pockets, posture tense. After minutes of silence, Adam lets out a frustrated sound. “What do you want, Lynch?”

Ronan walks up to Adam, takes his hands in his. Adam stiffens. Ronan kisses his knuckles, not looking at him. 

Adam snatches his hands away, scowling, and Ronan stares at him now, hurt. 

“That’s not an apology.”

Ronan kisses Adam’s temple, his forehead, his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth.

Adam’s eyes flutter shut. “That’s still not an apology,” Adam says weakly.

Ronan kisses the shell of his right ear, and his hands lightly rubs circles on his lower back, under his t-shirt. “Sorry,” he whispers. A kiss to his jaw. “Sorry.” A kiss to his throat. “Sorry.” Adam’s head automatically tilts back to allow better access. A kiss to his collarbone. “Sorry.” 

Adam forces himself to pull back, away from Ronan’s touch. It takes way too much effort. Adam runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “Are you just saying that because you don’t want to fight or are you actually sorry?”

Ronan looks annoyed at having to verbalize it, but he says anyways, “I _am_ sorry, Parrish. I was a dick.” 

Adam sighs. “I know that—that you don’t get why—“

“I get it,” Ronan interrupts. “I don’t like it, and I don’t agree, but I get it. Or, I’m trying to.” 

Adam nods, accepting this. He still keeps his distance from the other boy, though. 

Ronan frowns. “Adam?” 

Adam looks at Ronan. Ronan’s expression is uncertain and fearful. Adam feels his remaining anger slipping away, hard as he might try to hold onto it. Adam still glares at him and said, “I can’t stay mad at you when you look at me like that.” 

Ronan’s mouth quirks. He moves closer to Adam, cradles his face in his hands. “Then don’t.” 

Adam exhales and kisses Ronan, deep and lingering. “You’re still an asshole.”

“I know,” says Ronan, and kisses him again. “So, hey. You want to spend the day at the Barns tomorrow? Opal misses you. She’s at Fox Way now, and I had to convince her for like an hour to stay put because she wanted to visit you.” 

“ _Opal_ misses me, huh?” Adam asks, smiling.

“Yeah. I mean, I told her to stop being so clingy, it’d only been like three days, but you know how she is. Fucking obsessed with you.”

“Definitely. You, on the other hand, would be completely okay with not seeing me for weeks and weeks and weeks.”

“Absolutely.” 

“Maybe we should test that theory.”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Parrish,” Ronan growls, pulling him closer by the waist.

Adam buries his face in Ronan’s neck and whispers, smiling, “You missed me.” He strokes the hair at the nape of Ronan’s neck and feels Ronan shiver.

“So what if I did?” Ronan replies, low.

“So, nothing. I missed you too.”

Ronan exhales in Adam’s hair, holding him ever tighter. “God, Adam.” There is something raw in his voice.

Adam starts kissing Ronan’s throat, his hands start traveling under his t-shirt. Ronan’s breath hitches. 

“Adam,” Ronan gasps when Adam sinks his teeth into his shoulder. Adam moves his hand lower and grips him through his jeans, and Ronan muffles a moan in Adam’s shoulder. 

“Come on,” Adam murmurs, dragging him to the bed. After that, it’s just Adam’s hand on him, it’s Ronan stifling his shouts into the pillow, it’s Ronan repeating Adam’s name like a prayer.

Afterwards, Adam rolls off of him and they lie side by side. Ronan is breathing hard.

“God. You really missed me a lot, huh.”

“Shut up, Lynch.”

“Shouldn’t I have been the one to get you off, as an apology?”

Adam snorts. “Next time. I’m sleepy.” He absently rubs his fingers back and forth on his wrist, and he can still faintly feel the rope tied around them from two months ago. Suddenly, something occurs to him. "Hey. Did you... did you mean that thing you said?"

"What thing?"

" _Forsan et haec olim meminisse juvabit_ ," Adam echoes Ronan's words back at him from the night he was possessed. Because of course Ronan Lynch would quote The Aenid during such a dire situation. "I can't believe you were tying up my demon hands and  _that's_ what you were thinking about Lynch."

Ronan goes red. "Shut up." A pause. "Do you... do you want... that?"

Adam bites his lip. "Yeah, I think so. If you want to. The nightmares aren't as bad anymore, but... I still want to replace that memory with something better. I mean, not anytime soon, but eventually, yeah."

Ronan exhales. "Okay. Yeah."  

"Okay," Adam repeats. He curls up against Ronan’s side and Ronan wraps an arm around him, kissing the top of his head. 

“So, are you coming over tomorrow?” 

Adam wants to tell him the truth, but what comes out is, “Can’t. Have work and have to study.”

“Study at the Barns.”

“Group project. Will be working on it all day.”

Ronan sighs. “Fine. You can spend the day on Sunday, then.”

“Sure.”

 

*

 

On Sunday afternoon, Adam arrives at Monmouth to find the other four already lounging in the main room, snacks spread out before them. Opal is in Ronan’s room, chewing on something.

Ronan smiles at him and Adam drops a quick kiss to his head and then collapses on the couch next to him. 

“Parrish, my man. Please teach me your non-procrastinating ways. I bow before you,” Henry says from his place on the floor. 

“It’s easy if you have no choice,” Adam points out.

“Hey, you have a choice. You could always just… drop out. Not work. Not go to college.” 

Adam doesn’t bother acknowledging that comment.

“Seriously, though, Adam, a huge weight must be off your shoulders,” Gansey says. 

Adam freezes, realizing what they’re talking about. Adam had mentioned it to them off-handedly yesterday afternoon. But he had lied about it to Ronan. They needed to stop talking. 

“Nah, man,” Ronan says. “One weight gone, another is always added. That’s the Adam Parrish way.”

“True, but still, sending all your college applications in is still a relief. I still have to work on mine.” 

Ronan’s gaze snaps to Adam’s. Adam feels panic in his veins. 

“I can’t believe you worked all day on that yesterday,” Henry says. “I don’t have the attention span. Where did you say you were applying again? Columbia, Yale, Harvard… I can’t remember the rest. Every Ivy, I’m guessing.”

“Princeton and MIT, too, I think,” Gansey adds.

“You also said UPenn, right?” Blue asks.

Ronan is tense all over, and Adam feels his gaze boring into the side of his face. Adam can’t meet his eyes.

“Parrish,” Ronan says, voice carefully blank. “You told me you were just working and studying yesterday.” 

Adam swallows, looking at his hands. “I did study,” he manages.

The room is silent now, the other three looking between Adam and Ronan with concern.

“Adam,” Gansey says. “Did you not tell Ronan…?” 

Before Adam can tell Gansey to shut up, Ronan stands up abruptly and before Adam can blink, he’s out the door. Adam just sits and stares, feeling numb. 

“Are you not going after him?” Gansey asks. 

Adam jolts at the words and quickly gets up. He takes Opal with him as he runs down to the parking lot. But the BMW is already gone.

Adam drives to the Barns, but Ronan isn’t there.

“Told you he wasn’t here,” Opal says solemnly. But Adam still had to check.

Adam waits all day at the Barns, but Ronan never shows. Then he takes Opal with him to St. Agnes, not wanting to leave her alone in case Ronan didn’t come back during the night.

 

*

 

Ronan drives around all day and then comes back to the Barns in the middle of the night, when he’s sure Adam has left.

He takes a while to fall asleep and when he dreams, he dreams that Adam is gone. He’s in California or New York or Boston or out of the fucking country and he’s not coming back, not ever.

It’s not like Ronan hadn’t been worrying about this, anyways. He had, every day, ever since they first kissed. They hadn’t talked about it, though, not once. Ronan was too afraid to bring it up, and Adam never did, either.

But after today, it seems that Ronan’s fears are confirmed.

 

*

 

After work on Monday, Adam drives back to the Barns with Opal, and finally, Ronan’s car is there.

He leaves Opal in the fields and finds Ronan in his bedroom. There are empty beer bottles next to him, though thankfully not that many. His eyes are closed and his headphones are on, but Adam knows that Ronan notices him by the way his jaw tenses.

Adam drops his backpack on the floor and sits down next to him. Ronan doesn’t move. Adam takes his headphones off and puts them aside, and Ronan opens his eyes and glares at him. 

“I was listening to that.” 

“Your ears are probably thanking me right now.”

Ronan doesn’t say anything, just turns his head and stares at the wall again. 

“Ronan—“

“You know it’s not like I didn’t expect this to happen, but you could have at least had the guts to tell me yourself, Parrish.” Ronan’s fists are clenched at his sides, and his voice is raw and furious. He looks like he might be trembling.

“I—what?” 

“If you’re so sure about this already, I don’t know what the fuck it is we’re doing here. Why wait until you leave? Just break up with me now and get it over with,” Ronan snarls, and now he’s _definitely_ trembling. 

Adam gapes at him, shocked. “Ronan, I—that’s not—“ 

“Don’t,” Ronan rasps. “Don’t fucking lie again.”

“I’m not! Would you at least listen to me?”

“Why? You didn’t want to talk about it before. You told Gansey, Cheng, and Sargent everything but you fucking _lied_ and _hid it_ from me.” 

“I know, and I shouldn’t have, but it’s not—it’s not what you think, okay? Just let me explain for a minute, please.” 

“Whatever. I’m going downstairs,” Ronan mutters, and moves to get up. Adam grabs his hand tightly. 

“Ronan,” Adam says, voice cracking desperately. Ronan stares at him for a long minute, then finally settles back down, though he pulls his hand away from Adam’s, which hurts. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at Adam expectantly, his expression closed off. 

Adam takes a deep breath. “I—I always wanted to leave this place, Ronan. Ever since I could—I’ve always wanted to. College was my ticket out. I can’t stay in this town.”

Ronan is completely stiff, wound up so tight that he’s shaking with the tension. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but Adam can see the fear and pain in it.

Adam continues, “Henrietta is never going to be home for me. That hasn’t changed. I can’t—“

“I get it,” Ronan snaps. “You don’t have to keep repeating it.” 

“I’m not finished,” Adam says, exasperated. “Just let me—“

“I already know how this ends so why don’t you—“ 

 _“Ronan_. Will you shut up for one second?” 

Ronan does.

“Henrietta isn’t home,” Adam says quietly. “But… you are.”

A muscle jumps in Ronan’s jaw. “What?” His voice is hoarse.

“I’m coming back, Ronan. I—I’ll always come back home. To you and Opal and—,” Adam breaks off, swallows. “I never thought I’d have anything or—or anyone, to come back to, but… I do, now.”

Ronan lets out a long, ragged breath and closes his eyes. “You asshole. You couldn’t have started with that?” 

Adam lets out a watery laugh and says, “Sorry.” 

“Christ, Parrish. You scared the shit out of me.” His voice is uneven.

Adam kisses Ronan’s closed eyelids. “Sorry,” he whispers again.

Ronan opens his eyes and takes Adam’s hands.

“Hey,” Ronan says then, sounding nervous. Adam pulls back, looking at him. Ronan swallows and then says softly, “Tu mihi domum quoque.” _You’re my home, too._  

Adam tries to speak past the huge lump in his throat, but he can’t. So he just takes Ronan’s hand and brings his fingers to his mouth.

Then he takes out two folders from his backpack and hands them to Ronan.

Ronan looks at Adam curiously and opens the first one. “What’s this?”

“This is all the research I’ve done on a bunch of schools, to decide which ones to apply to. It has all the brochures, pro-con lists, any information I thought I’d need. I started this folder two years ago.” 

“Okay,” Ronan replies, clearly confused as to why Adam is showing this to him.

Adam takes the folder from Ronan and gestures to the other one. “Open that one.”

Ronan opens it wordlessly and slowly goes through its contents. Adam can pinpoint the exact moment that realization dawns on him.

Inside the second folder are lists about various colleges, lists that include the distance from Singers Falls, prices for transportation to and from Singer’s Falls, lengths and times of breaks and long weekends, policies on guests staying over in dorm rooms, policies on pets, etc.

“I started it over a month ago,” Adam adds. “Right after—everything.” 

Ronan just stares at him.

Adam takes a deep breath. “I knew. Right after you first kissed me, or maybe even before that, I—I knew this wasn’t just some short term thing. I knew it was all or nothing.” 

Ronan looks at him for a long moment, expression raw, and then he kisses Adam deeply, chasing his lips when Adam tries to pull away to catch his breath. Adam smiles against his mouth. 

Finally, Ronan breaks away and asks him, “I don’t get it. If you’d already decided all this—why didn’t you just tell me? Why lie about it?”

Sighing, Adam stares at his hands. “It was stupid.“

“No shit.”

“I just—everything’s been so good with us. We hadn’t talked about me leaving and I didn’t know how you’d react—“

“Really, Parrish? I thought you knew me better than that. I want you to get everything you’ve worked for. Did you think I’d throw a fucking tantrum and demand that you stay?” Adam can hear the hurt in his voice. 

“ _No_. I mean—I don’t know, okay? I just didn’t want you to be upset.” 

“I know I’m not… good at this shit. But you can’t just lie to me about things because you’re worried about how I’ll react. Even if the conversation’s fucking painful, we can’t just not talk about it.”

“Never thought I’d see the day when Ronan Lynch is advocating for talking about feelings.” Ronan gives him an unimpressed look. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. Besides, it wasn’t just—“ Adam breaks off, chews his lip. 

“What?” Ronan asks softly. 

“I just felt like… talking about it would make it real. I didn’t—I didn’t want to think about it. I know it’s still months away, but I’m… I’m scared.” Adam’s voice cracks a little at the end, and he hates it. 

Ronan looks confused. “But… why? I thought you wanted to leave. I thought you’d be excited.” 

“To leave Henrietta, yeah. I am. But not… not to leave _you_.” 

Ronan opens his mouth, closes it. He clearly wasn’t expecting that. “Oh,” Ronan breathes. 

Adam’s heart clenches at the thought of it. He’s waiting to leave, but at the same time he’s dreading it. He misses Ronan fiercely after only a couple days apart. How would he deal with weeks, months, without Ronan’s steady presence, without Ronan’s lips on his? 

Adam pushes those thoughts away. He’s getting ahead of himself. He has over eight months with Ronan right here next to him.

“It’s not going to be easy. I know we can make it work but it… it won’t be easy.”

“ _Fuck_ easy,” Ronan says.

Adam laughs lightly, and Ronan kisses him.

They just sit there for a while, hands tangling together, and then Adam says, tentatively, “Hey. What you said earlier… did you… were you really _expecting_ that I’d break up with you, Ronan?” 

Ronan looks away, cheeks reddening. “I’d suspected,” he mumbles, and Adam feels the weight of the admission. “I knew that you had to leave, and I was scared you wouldn’t want…”

Adam kisses Ronan’s temple, breathes slowly against his skin. “You’re such an idiot, Lynch.” He kisses Ronan’s lips, softly. “God, you’re such an idiot,” He breathes against Ronan’s mouth. 

Ronan kisses him back, hungrily, desperately, clutching at his hair, holding on tight, as if he’s afraid that Adam will disappear if he lets go. 

Adam pulls back reluctantly, and Ronan makes a noise of protest. “I have to shower. I have grease and sweat all over me. And yes, I know you like that, but I don’t.” 

Ronan grins slyly. “You know, I haven’t showered yet today. I could join you.” 

Heat spikes through Adam. He tries to keep his voice casual as he says, “If you want to.” It comes out far more breathless than he intended, and Ronan’s eyes darken in response. 

They get up and silently walk to the bathroom. Once inside, Ronan starts taking his clothes off. Adam freezes, heady with the knowledge that despite all they’d recently done, neither of them had been fully naked in front of each other. Ronan is not self conscious about letting Adam see him, but Adam again feels that lingering uncertainty. Ronan stops before taking off his boxers and stares at Adam’s tense, still fully clothed form.

“Parrish?” Ronan’s voice is gentle. “You okay? We don’t have to—“

“I’m fine. I want to.”

Ronan doesn’t respond, just comes closer, hands slipping under Adam’s t-shirt in a silent question. Adam nods in answer and lifts his arms. 

Ronan is gentle about this, somehow, in the way he slowly pulls Adam’s t-shirt over his head and caresses Adam’s ribs as he does so, in the way he noses under Adam’s jaw while unbuttoning Adam’s jeans with firm fingers. 

He stops when Adam is only in his underwear, looking at him again for permission. Adam nods again, and shivers as Ronan’s fingers brush his hips, his thighs, and then he’s bare before the other boy. Ronan removes his own boxers and then they’re both staring at each other, drinking each other in, entirely exposed for the first time.

Ronan is attractive in a way that is physically painful, and Adam is again rendered breathless by his sharp beauty, by the hard planes and angles of his torso. It’s not like Adam is really seeing any parts of Ronan’s body that he hasn’t before, but there is something about having it all on open display that makes Ronan all the more breathtaking.

Adam is almost too busy ogling Ronan to remember his own self-consciousness. Almost. 

When Adam’s gaze finally lands on Ronan’s face, the expression there makes his knees weak. It’s more than hunger, more than awe, even more than worship, and Adam doesn’t think he can name it.

Ronan exhales and moves closer so that they’re cheek to cheek. Adam feels Ronan’s breath on his neck as he whispers, “You’re gorgeous.” 

Adam feels his ears redden. He still doesn’t know how to respond when Ronan says things like that. He takes Ronan’s hands and drags him to the shower.

The scathing hot water on Adam’s back is nothing compares to the heat inside of him at Ronan’s closeness. Still, he wants to take it slow this time. Their encounters thus far had been frantic and rushed, and Adam had been too impatient to fully explore Ronan the way he wanted to.

Ronan is staring at him with hooded eyes, and Adam feels his gaze all over his body. He steps close to Ronan, putting both hands, palms flat, on his shoulders. Ronan’s breath hitches at the simple touch, and Adam moves his hands downwards, taking his time and feeling every inch of Ronan’s skin. 

When Adam’s hands reach the V of Ronan’s hips, Ronan exhales shakily and leans his forehead on Adam’s shoulder. Ronan is already hard, but Adam continues with his feather-light touch down the front of Ronan’s thighs. Then he moves back up, cupping Ronan’s ass, and Ronan has to stifle a moan into Adam’s neck, his hands tightening on Adam’s lower back. He traces every inch of Ronan’s back, and by the end Ronan is gasping against his skin. 

Ronan jerks his hips forward, but Adam holds him back and whispers, “Not yet.” Ronan lets out something that sounds suspiciously like a whimper, but Adam just keeps touching him everywhere but the place he needs it the most.

Finally Ronan just starts to jerk himself off, and Adam laughs when he notices. “So impatient, Lynch.” 

Ronan glares at him, too wild with his own want to be embarrassed. Adam finally takes him in his hand, and then Ronan’s shouts are so loud that Adam has to hiss, “Jesus, Ronan, keep it down, Opal might hear you.”

Ronan buries a fist in his mouth and keeps swearing and gasping Adam’s name around it, and finally comes with a hoarse cry into Adam’s hand. Ronan is flushed red everywhere and breathing heavily, and Adam just stares at his wrecked appearance.

Ronan looks at Adam in awe and says, voice scratchy, “Holy shit. That was… holy _fuck_.”

“Yeah, I could tell you enjoyed it.”

Ronan huffs and then pushes Adam back against the wall, the spray of water not hitting either of them now. Ronan gets down on his knees and wastes no time before taking Adam in his mouth. 

Adam gasps and clutches Ronan’s head. Ronan is looking up at him through his long lashes, and Adam holds his gaze as he unravels completely. He holds back less this time, his noises slightly less restrained, and Ronan is clearly pleased by this development. Adam comes with a groan of Ronan’s name, and Ronan trails light kisses across his hipbone as he recovers. 

Ronan stands up and brushes Adam’s wet hair from his forehead. Adam can do nothing but stare, his mind filled with light.

“Was that good?” Ronan murmurs as he kisses along Adam’s throat.

“Fuck, yes,” Adam pants out, still catching his breath.

Ronan pulls back and smiles at him, with no trace of smugness, just genuine and young and open. Adam’s heart starts beating faster than it already is.

They go back under the water and Adam pulls Ronan to him, buries his head in Ronan’s shoulder and wraps his arms around Ronan’s neck. Ronan’s arms circle his waist, and they stand there like that for a while.

Eventually, Adam remembers his actual purpose for the shower, and grabs the shampoo from the shelf. Ronan bats his hand away and snatches the bottle from him.

Adam rolls his eyes. “Fine, you can go first, though it’s not like you have much there to shampoo, Lynch.”

Ronan gives him an unreadable look and then reaches forward to apply shampoo to Adam’s hair. Adam startles a bit when he realizes Ronan’s intention, though if Ronan notices, he doesn’t comment. It’s ridiculous that Adam feels heat rise to his face from something this simple, after everything, but maybe it’s _because_ it’s so simple and intimate and domestic that Adam feels butterflies in his stomach. 

Ronan’s face is focused as he combs through Adam’s hair thoroughly, fingernails lightly scraping against his scalp, and then Adam turns around so he can wash the back of it. He washes the shampoo out afterwards, and Adam thinks that’s the end of it, but then he feels Ronan’s soap-covered hands rubbing large circles on his back. 

“I can do that myself, you know,” says Adam, but he turns so Ronan can do his front as well. Ronan just responds with a dismissive noise. There’s no purposeful hunger as Ronan’s palms make their way down Adam’s chest, and again Adam is overwhelmed by the simple intimacy of it all. Ronan then unceremoniously rubs soap all over Adam’s face, and Adam makes a noise of protest and scrunches up his nose as soap gets into his nostrils. 

Ronan laughs, the sound recalling a childish delight, and kisses Adam’s scrunched up nose. Adam takes the bar of soap and scrubs it over Ronan’s mouth, and Ronan sputters. It turns into fake fighting for a while, and then they’re both laughing so hard that they’re in serious danger of losing their balance and falling. 

They get out and get dressed soon after. Ronan is sitting on the bed with his arms behind his head when Adam comes out wearing one of Ronan’s black muscle T’s and sweatpants. Ronan eyes Adam hungrily, and Adam looks back as he collapses next to Ronan, laying down on his back.

“Like seeing me in your clothes, Lynch?” Adam asks, smiling.

Ronan shrugs. “You pull them off okay, I guess.”

“Uh huh.” Ronan is wearing nothing but his boxers, and Adam’s eyes follow the length of his body.

Ronan notices. “Like seeing me without clothes, Parrish?”

Adam looks up at Ronan’s face and says, “Yeah, actually. It’s my personal favorite Ronan Lynch look. Though all of them are pretty attractive, if I’m being honest.”

Ronan is momentarily speechless at the blunt answer, and then he ducks his head, almost bashfully, ears faintly pink. Attempting to hide his smile and failing miserably, he mutters, “So fucking thirsty for me.”

Adam brings Ronan’s hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles. “Can’t argue with that,” Adam replies.

Ronan lies down on his stomach next to him and Adam just stares at him again, warmth filling him. Adam doesn’t think he’s ever felt this lightness in his chest before. 

“What?” Ronan asks after Adam has been staring at him with a complicated expression for too long.

“Nothing, it’s just…” Adam swallows, trying to get his bearings. He feels like he’s in a dream. He feels as if he’s floating. “I’m just… really happy.”

Ronan raises his eyebrows. “The blow job was that good, huh?”

Adam swats at him, and Ronan grins. “Asshole,” Adam huffs. Then, “I’m serious. I’m…” He trails off, unsure how to put this lightness inside him into words.

“What?” Ronan asks again, voice soft. 

Adam takes a deep breath and starts absently tracing Ronan’s tattoo with one hand. “I’m… actually happy. It’s just weird, I guess. I never thought I would be. I never really _cared_ about it, either. It was always—I always wanted to be rich and successful, or to get out of Henrietta, or to get through the day, or to get into college. _Happy_ was never really a goal. But now, here I am.”

Ronan moves closer and kisses Adam’s forehead. “I’m glad. You deserve to be.”

“It’s because of you, you know,” Adam says quietly, like a confession. “I mean, not completely, there’s a lot of other stuff too, obviously, but… this thing between us. It’s—I’m happy, Ronan.”

Adam’s face feels hot at his candidness, but he needs Ronan to _know_. He’d never felt this before, this utter senseless and thoughtless happiness, until Ronan. And he’s so unbelievably grateful for it. Happiness had never been a goal for him, not the way wealth and success and _getting out_ had been, but now he thinks that it should’ve been the most important goal of all.

Ronan is still against him, not saying anything for endless minutes. Finally, Adam pulls back, worried, and Ronan’s expression is somehow both fractured and joyful. Ronan opens his mouth, closes it. He’s never been good with words.

Adam kisses him, slow, soft, and then stares at him, smiling, tracing the angles of his face with his fingertips. 

At last, Ronan chokes out, voice raw, “Me too.”

Adam smiles wider and then pulls Ronan’s face to his chest, his chin resting on top of his head. He rubs the back of Ronan’s head and presses kisses to the prickly hair, and Ronan sighs in contentment against his collarbone, his arms wrapping around Adam’s hips.

“I’ll have to leave early tomorrow morning for work, you know. I probably should drive back. It’s not too late yet.”

“Fuck that. Leave early tomorrow if you have to. You’re staying right here, Parrish.”

Adam sighs. “I _want_ to stay right here.”

Ronan’s arms tighten around him. “Good.”

 

*

 

Adam wakes up at 3 am to the sight of Ronan Lynch thrashing around in bed and whimpering, tears falling down his cheeks. Adam jolts upright in panic and starts shaking Ronan.

“Ronan. Ronan, wake up, it’s just a nightmare, _wake up_.”

Ronan gasps awake and sits up, and Adam immediately wraps his arms around him, pulling Ronan’s head to his chest. Ronan’s breaths are still coming in wheezes and sobs, tears escaping even more quickly.

“Shhh. You’re okay. You’re okay. I’m here. You’re okay,” Adam whispers, rubbing his hands up and down Ronan’s back soothingly.

He holds Ronan for a while longer as the other boy shakes in his arms, and then Ronan finally pulls back. He wipes the remaining tears from his eyes and stands up, not looking at Adam. 

“Sorry to wake you. I—I can’t fall back asleep. I’m gonna go downstairs.”

Adam gets up to follow him, but Ronan shakes his head. “You have work in a couple hours and you’re exhausted. Go back to bed.”

Adam walks over to him and takes his hands in his. “No. I’m not letting you stay up alone after that.”

“I’ll be fine, Parrish. You don’t need to baby me.” 

“Being worried about you isn’t _babying_ you, Ronan. I’m staying awake with you, whether you like it or not. At least for a little bit.”

They stare each other down, both stubborn, until Ronan finally looks away and starts down the stares, Adam wordlessly following behind him to the open fields.

Adam doesn’t see Ronan grabbing a jacket, but he must have because he’s significantly warmer in the late December air with his thick black jacket than Adam is in Ronan’s muscle t-shirt.

They sit down in the middle of the field, the stars bright above them. Adam tries to ignore the goosebumps all over his skin, but starts to shiver despite his best efforts, teeth chattering with alarming intensity. 

Ronan looks over at him and immediately takes his jacket off and hands it to Adam.

Adam shakes his head. “It’s f-f-fine. You’re not even w-wearing a s-shirt.” 

Ronan rolls his eyes and wraps the jacket around Adam’s shoulders anyways, startlingly gentle about it. Adam feels warm from something else than the jacket around him. He finally relents and wears it properly.

“Thanks,” Adam says. 

Ronan just shrugs in response, staring out into field with his knees hugged to his chest. They sit in silence for minutes on end.

Adam finally says, hesitant, “You don’t have to talk about the nightmare if you don’t want to. But I’m here if you do.”

Ronan doesn’t say anything, just looks at him, and Adam knows it’s his way of saying _I know, Adam_.

Adam leans his head on Ronan’s bare shoulder, and one of Ronan’s arms come to wrap around him. It’s many more minutes before Ronan speaks. 

“It was… everyone. Everyone was dead. My parents. Matthew. Gansey and Blue and Opal and—and you.” 

Adam’s heart clenches. 

“Guess I should be used to it by now. Not like it’s anything I haven’t dreamt about before.” 

Adam lifts his head and takes Ronan’s face in his hands. Adam kisses him long and deep, and then he wraps his arms around him so tight that he’s sure it must hurt.

His suspicion is confirmed when Ronan makes a pained noise and mutters, “You’re crushing my shoulders, Parrish.”

Adam relaxes his grip slightly but burrows ever closer to Ronan, breathing in his scent, just holding him. 

“I thought the nightmares were getting better.”

“They were.”

Adam sighs and pulls back. “Have you been having a lot recently?”

“Not like this, no.” 

Adam frowns. “But others?”

Ronan looks away, suddenly avoidant. “Yeah.”

Adam gets the distinct feeling that these other nightmares have to do with him. “Ronan.”

“It’s not relevant anymore, Parrish.” 

Adam’s heart stops. “Is it—was it about me trying to kill you—“

“Fuck, Adam, no. That’s not it.“ 

“Then what?” 

Ronan lets out a frustrated sound and drags his hands down his face. “It was about you… leaving.” A pause. “And not coming back.” 

“Oh.” Adam’s voice is small. 

“I told you, it doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“I… When did you—“

“Last night.” 

Adam swallows. “Was that the first time?” 

Ronan’s silence is answer enough. He isn’t looking at Adam.

Adam takes Ronan’s hand in his and squeezes it. “You should have told me.” 

Ronan doesn’t reply.

“Ronan,” Adam says softly.

Ronan turns to face him. “I know. I told you, it doesn’t matter anymore. I know you’re coming back now.”

“That’s not the point. You should have talked to me before if you were scared.”

“Right, like you were so fucking eager to bring the topic up yourself.” There’s an edge to Ronan’s voice now.

Adam feels his own irritation spike, but then realizes Ronan is probably right. “Okay, fine. So we _both_ need to talk about stuff instead of bottling it up and avoiding it.”

Ronan’s mouth quirks. “So what else is new.”

Adam grins back and bumps his shoulder against Ronan.

They sit there for a while longer, until Adam’s eyes start to droop.

Ronan takes one look at him and says, firm, “Go the fuck to bed, Parrish. You’ve been out here long enough.” 

Adam blinks himself awake and shakes his head, stifling a yawn. “It’s fine, I can—“

“Adam. Go to sleep. I’m okay now. I mean it.” 

Adam sighs in defeat. “Are you sure?” 

Ronan traces Adam’s cheekbone with his thumb and kisses his forehead. “I’m sure.” 

Adam finally lets out a yawn and gets up. “You staying out here?” 

“For a bit, yeah.”

“Okay. Wake me if you need to.” 

Adam leans down and kisses the top of Ronan’s head once before going back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Adam would probably apply somewhere early decision, but I wanted to do the dramatic thing where he receives a billion college acceptances in the spring from all the fancy colleges, so. In my mind Adam's justification for not applying early is a) He's not 100% set on one school yet and b) After having no control over his life for so long, he doesn't want to bind himself to one school just yet. He wants to be able to choose when the time comes, with several options and opportunities at his feet.


	11. christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As others exchange presents, Adam’s mind wanders, his nerves fraying about tonight. Something feels significant and monumental about this night, about this holiday celebrated in the warmth of the Barns, with fireflies and twinkling lights and mistletoe all around them. Adam wonders if there are many more Christmases like this for him in the future. He hopes so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long to get up. I kind of got burnt out and lost all motivation to write for a while and also, I hate writing about Christmas. It took me like a week to come up with the gifts the characters picked out for each other rip. I also know nothing about how Mass actually works, so uh. Idk this chapter kind of sucks and is a disappointment but..... I'll get back to the good stuff in the next one, probably. This was also supposed to include New Years but I didn't want to wait any longer to get it up, especially since I won't be able to update again for a while because I'll be writing stuff for Pynch Week and then school is starting. (BTW, if you aren't writing fic for [Pynch Week](http://pynchweek.tumblr.com/post/147811964030/hello-everyone-its-estrella-lostgansey-and), or [Pynch AUgust](http://pynchfic.tumblr.com/post/147721631515/pynchfic-pynch-august-challenge-what-is-it-a), you should!!!!!!!!! Do it.)

It’s three days until Christmas, and Adam still doesn’t know what he’s getting Ronan. He’s set on the gifts for everyone else, but what could possibly be a good enough present for Ronan Lynch, a dreamer who could dream himself anything, and who dreams wondrous and magical things for others?

He’s panicking, slightly.

They’ve already solidified their Christmas plans. The gang would all go to Fox Way first and then spend the evening at the Barns, just the five of them and Opal. Gansey’s family had tried to rope him in for the next few days, but he declined, which caused an uproar by his parents that Gansey somehow managed to quell. Ronan would be attending Christmas mass with his brothers and would spend the afternoon with them before joining the others at Fox Way.

They also set a thirty-dollar limit for presents, which Gansey and Henry had both looked appalled at. Ronan had just looked smug and said, “None of my presents actually cost anything so I’m good.” 

Adam cannot buy anything for thirty dollars that is good enough for Ronan. Adam cannot buy anything for a thousand dollars that is good enough for Ronan.

Ronan comes over to his apartment in the early afternoon, and they laze around in bed for a while. For once, Adam _can_ just laze around, with over a week off from school. 

Adam is lying with his head on Ronan’s chest, curled into him, drifting in and out of sleep, as Ronan plays with his hair.

“Adam?”

Adam doesn’t know if he’s imagining the slight nervousness to Ronan’s voice, but it makes him feel a little more awake. “Hmm?” 

“What are you doing on Christmas Eve?” 

“I don’t think I have any plans. Why?” 

Ronan’s voice is hesitant. “I was thinking… if… do you want to come to midnight mass with me?”

Adam lifts his head and looks at Ronan, startled by the question. “Oh… um…”

“You don’t have to,” Ronan says quickly. “I just thought—“

“Of course I will,” Adam interrupts before Ronan can work himself up over it.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Do you think Declan and Matthew will mind, though?” Adam feels once again as if he’s intruding on an intimate family thing. He always feels weird enough in the church as it is.

“Please, Matthew will be thrilled. And who gives a fuck what Declan thinks.” 

“Then, yes. I’ll come.” 

Ronan smiles. “Okay. Good.”

After an hour or so, Ronan and Adam go to Fox Way to pick up Opal, who squeals in delight at seeing Adam. She launches herself into Adam’s arms, yammering about the things she learned and the delicious teas Maura gave her to drink. 

“Be honest,” Ronan tells Maura. “You only agree to babysit her because she likes your disgusting footy teas, don’t you?” 

Maura shrugs. “Well, it certainly works in her favor.”

“Maura’s teas are tasty,” Opal quips.

“Clearly, you didn’t dream her with taste buds,” Blue says. 

Neither Ronan nor Adam can argue with that.

“Adam,” Maura calls. “Pick a card.” 

Ronan huffs. “At least let me leave before you do your weird witchy voodoo shit.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “Don’t be such a shitbag, Ronan.” 

“Isn’t Adam coming with us?” Opal sounds hopeful.

“Not tonight, Opal,” Adam says gently. “We’ll see each other soon, though, okay?” 

Opal pouts, but mumbles, “Okay.”

Adam kisses the top of her head before she scampers towards the front door. He nods towards Ronan. “Bye, Lynch.”

Ronan raises an eyebrow. “No goodbye kiss for me, Parrish?” 

Adam’s ears turn pink, and he’s acutely aware of Blue and Maura watching them as he kisses Ronan quickly. After Calla’s unfortunate psychic glimpses into their sex life, Adam always feels a little awkward around the women.

After they leave, Adam turns back to Maura. “Still want me to pick a card?” 

Maura looks thoughtful. “You might benefit from a more thorough reading, actually.”

Blue huffs. “She’s just being dramatic,” she tells Adam. “Come on.” She takes Adam by the wrist and drags him into the backyard, and they sit underneath the beech tree. They make small talk for a while, simply catching each other up on things. 

Finally, Adam asks, hesitant, “Hey. Have you gotten a present for Gansey yet?”

“Yeah, of course. Why?” 

Adam fidgets with his hands. “I just… I don’t know what to get Ronan.”

Blue stares at him. “Adam, you do realize that Christmas is in less than three days.”

“I know,” Adam snaps. “But it’s not like—I mean, it’s _Ronan_. He can dream himself anything and he always dreams the most beautiful gifts for others and I just—I don’t know.” 

“Ronan will like anything you get him. It’s not a competition about who can get the most fancy present or whatever. You know that.”

“Yeah, but I…” Adam takes a deep breath. “I want to get him something really good. I—I want to show him how much I—how much this—“ He breaks off, throat dry.

Blue looks at him for a long moment, expression pensive. “Well, if you want a present that will show him what he means to you, then find something personal. It doesn’t matter how small or plain, if it represents something to you two, then it’ll work.”

Adam considers her words, then says slowly. “You’re a genius, Blue Sargent, you know that?”

“I do, but I could stand to be told more often,” Blue says, grinning. 

“Do you have some art supplies I can borrow?” 

Blue gives him a curious look. “Sure. I can help you with whatever it is you’re planning, if you want. No offence, but you don’t seem like you have the best art skills. I, however, am an expert.”

Adam laughs. “Yeah, that’d be great.” 

“So,” Blue says, after minutes of comfortable silence, “You and Ronan… clearly things are still going well.”

“Yeah, um. They are.”

Blue looks at him slyly. “Particularly in the physical department.”

Adam reddens. “Jesus, Blue.” 

Blue laughs. “So, anyways, what do you need the craft stuff for?” 

Adam smiles.

 

*

 

Ronan arrives at St. Agnes an hour before Mass. Adam stares slack-jawed for a moment, heat stirring inside him at the sigh of Ronan Lynch in nice clothes for once, his shirtsleeves rolled up and his tattoo poking out beneath his collar and his dress pants hugging him in all the right places. The only thing off is his tie. 

Ronan notices Adam eyeing him and smirks. “You alright, Parrish?”

Adam attempts to get himself together, and it takes an embarrassing amount of effort. 

Trying to sound disdainful and not turned on, Adam says, “You couldn’t even wear your tie properly for Christmas, Lynch?”

Ronan grins. “Maybe I just wanted you to fix it for me.” 

Adam rolls his eyes and then loops the tie around properly and pulls. Once he’s done, he keeps his hands on Ronan’s chest and looks up at the other boy. There’s an unbelievably soft look on Ronan’s face, and Adam feels himself melt against his chest, head resting over his heart and arms snaking around his shoulders. Ronan makes a surprised sound, but he returns the hug.

“Hi,” Adam mumbles into his shirt.

“Hi,” Ronan whispers into his hearing ear.

Adam pulls away and then presses a soft kiss to the corner of Ronan’s mouth. Ronan’s lips twist up in an amused smile. 

“I really would like to continue this, Parrish, but you should probably start getting ready,” Ronan says, eyeing Adam’s attire of jeans and a t-shirt.

“Ronan Lynch, actually concerned about being on time for something. Never thought I’d see the day,” Adam teases, but he takes out his shirt and pants picked out for the evening anyways.

Ronan sprawls on the mattress, and makes no attempt to hide his hungry gaze as it roams Adam’s bare chest.

Adam feels his neck flush in response and glares at Ronan. Ronan raises his eyebrows, a hint of a smirk on his face. 

When Adam fumbles for too long with buttoning up his shirt, too distracted by Ronan to make his fingers work, Ronan gets up and starts buttoning it for him, a smug grin on his face the entire time.

Adam tries to swat his hands away, muttering, “I can do that myself.” 

“Can you? Didn’t seem like it just now.”

Adam huffs and lets Ronan continue. Once Adam is fully dressed, they make their way down to the church. 

Declan raises his eyebrows up to his hairline when he spots Adam, while Matthew breaks into a grin.

“See,” Matthew says to Declan, “I told you he’d bring Adam.”

Declan doesn’t acknowledge the comment. Instead, he says to Ronan, “Wow, you actually have your tie done properly. I’m shocked.” 

Ronan smirks. “Yeah, well, you can thank Parrish for that.” 

Declan shakes his head in exasperation, and then they get into the pew.

The next forty-five minutes are a blur of homilies and hymns, and Adam doesn’t register much except the way Ronan looks completely at home in this place, how his face is concentrated and peaceful as he listens. Adam won’t ever fully understand Ronan’s relationship with religion, especially with his own ambivalence and complex feelings towards it, but he wants to. He wants to understand every version and every hidden depth of Ronan Lynch that exists. Adam tries to be discreet in his observation, but Ronan catches him looking plenty of times, giving Adam a small, private smile when he does. 

Afterward, Matthew tries to convince Adam to join them the next afternoon for lunch, but Adam declines.

Matthew pouts. “But Ronan is so much nicer to be around when you’re there.”

“Got to agree with that one,” Declan mutters.

Ronan feigns offense. “Fuck you both, I’m always a delight.” 

Adam rolls his eyes and promises that he’ll join them another time. 

As soon as they’re back inside the apartment, Adam pushes a startled Ronan against the wall and starts mouthing at his neck, his fingers fumbling over his shirt buttons.

“Parrish— _fuck_ —does Mass turn you on or something? That’s fucked up.” But he sounds delighted and breathless.

“Shut up,” Adam growls, biting Ronan’s lip, and Ronan groans and jerks his hips against Adam. Once Ronan’s shirt is off, Adam pulls down his pants and boxers and then drops to his knees. 

Ronan inhales sharply and looks at Adam in wonder. “Fuck.”

Adam smiles crookedly at Ronan and kisses a line across his hipbone, drawing out thick swears from the other boy. This is only the second time he’s blowing Ronan, and he thrills in anticipation of taking Ronan apart. 

When he finishes, Ronan is red everywhere and breathing heavily, his hands still clutching onto Adam’s hair like a lifeline. Adam tucks him back in and kisses a line up his chest and throat, and Ronan pulls him up and kisses him frantically.

Adam undresses for bed, leaving him only in boxers, but when Ronan’s fingers skim the waistband, Adam just shakes his head and pulls away.

“You don’t want to get off?” Ronan sounds disappointed.

“Not tonight,” Adam replies softly, dragging him to the bed. “I’m tired.”

“Blowing me tire you out, Parrish?”

Adam doesn’t bother responding.

They collapse onto the bed, facing each other in the dark, the moonlight emphasizing the angles of Ronan’s face. 

After a moment, Adam says, “It was nice, seeing you during the service. You seem to really belong there, I don’t know.” 

“Yeah, well, it’s always been a big part of my life.”

“I’m glad you shared it with me,” Adam says quietly. “Even before we…” His throat closes up, thinking about the duplicate Ronan dying in front of him.

Ronan sees the thought in his face, and he takes his hands and squeezes them. “Adam.”

Adam exhales shakily. “I’m sorry I ruined—“ 

“You didn’t ruin anything.” 

“But you trusted me with an important part of you that day. And now the church is tainted with what happened and—“

“Nothing is tainted, alright? If you hadn’t come up with that plan, Greenmantle would’ve still been here, a danger to all of us.”

“I shouldn’t have left you alone,” Adam whispers. “I shouldn’t have—after how you used to feel about yourself, having to bury—I’m so sorry—“

Adam is interrupted with Ronan’s lips on his, bruising and insistent. When Ronan breaks away, his voice is firm. “That wasn’t your fault. Seeing myself die, it wasn’t—it wasn’t easy. But that’s not on you, Adam, and it’s not like it reverted me back to how I used to feel before. Shit, if it weren’t for you, I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through these past few months.” 

Adam doesn’t say anything, just moves closer to Ronan, buries his face in his chest and breathes him in. Ronan holds him and kisses his forehead.

Finally, Adam whispers, “You’re doing okay, now, though?”

“Yeah, Parrish. I’m better than okay.”

 

*

 

Adam wakes up the next morning to an insistent repetition of his name. “Parrish. _Parrish.”_

Adam ignores the voice, instead burrowing closer into the heated body under him, feeling warm and safe and content. 

“Parrish, you fucking octopus, get the fuck off me.”

Adam makes a protesting noise against Ronan’s neck, holding onto the other boy even tighter.

Ronan starts twisting in the bed, weakly attempting to push Adam off of him, but not with any real effort.

“Shut up, Lynch,” Adam mumbles.

“I have to meet Matthew and Declan for brunch in like an hour.”

“No,” Adam says stubbornly.

“The fuck do you mean _no_?”

In response, Adam plops himself more firmly on top of Ronan, accidentally kneeing him in the crotch, and Ronan lets out a pained noise.

“Parrish, what the fuck?” 

“Sorry,” Adam mutters, not really sounding it.

“Your elbow is digging into my— _Jesus_ ,” Ronan’s yelp is muffled as Adam hand goes up to ungracefully cover Ronan’s mouth. 

“Shut up and go back to sleep.”

Ronan lets out an exasperated noise. “It’s nine already. I have to go.” Ronan starts getting up in earnest, despite Adam’s protesting, and when he’s out from under him, Adam grabs at his arm. 

“Stay,” Adam says sleepily, almost a whine, eyes finally fluttering open. 

Ronan gives him an amused smile. “I’ll see you in a few hours, you know.”

“Five more minutes,” Adam insists, pulling at his arm, too sleep addled to think about what he’s saying.

Ronan rolls his eyes but gets back into bed, and Adam puts his head on his chest, pressing a feather light kiss to the hollow above his collarbone.

“You’re so goddamn clingy this morning.” 

Adam ignores him and kisses his throat lazily, going up to his jaw, his chin, finally his mouth. Ronan kisses him back so softly, tenderly, and Adam feels a little giddy when he pulls back.

“Mornin’,” Adam breathes.

Ronan’s fingers trace his cheekbone. “Morning.”

Adam feels words at the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out, but he swallows them down and kisses Ronan again.

Ronan pulls back. “Parrish, I have to go now.”

“Fine,” Adam grumbles as he rolls off of Ronan. 

Ronan grins and kisses the corner of Adam’s mouth before getting up. “Relax, you needy shithead. I’ll see you soon.”

Adam mumbles something incoherent, already falling back asleep.

 

*

 

Christmases at Fox Way are a chaotic thing, and Adam is glad that they’re only stopping by for a bit before they go to the Barns. Adam likes being around Maura and Calla and sometimes even Orla, but with the amount of unfamiliar female relatives that are visiting for the holiday, Adam is overwhelmed. With the looks on Gansey’s and Henry’s faces, it seems like they feel the same. On the other hand, Opal, who had stayed at Fox Way since the night before, is having a blast.

Ronan arrives a bit later, looking reluctant and unhappy to be there. He snarls at Calla when she asks him to pick a card, and she just snorts, “You act like you’re so tough, Snake, but I’ve seen differently.” She gives a pointed look at Adam, who feels his face heat up. 

Before they can go into the dining room, Orla stops them and points upwards. Adam looks up to see mistletoe hanging above the entryway. He rolls his eyes and simply plans to ignore it, but Ronan tugs him by the waist and kisses him deeply. He can hear Blue and Henry fake gagging in the background, but he barely registers it. All he can think about are Ronan’s lips.

When they pull back, Adam feels breathless, and Ronan has a pleased smirk on his face. 

“Gross,” Opal screeches, nose scrunched up and voice more creature than girl. Ronan glares at her, but she just grins back toothily.

“I agree with your satyr here,” Calla mutters. “I’ve seen enough of you two for a lifetime.”

Adam groans in embarrassment and leans his forehead on Ronan’s shoulder. 

“Oh, shush, Calla, let the kids have their fun,” Maura chides. 

“Easy for you to say,” Calla barks.

“Uh, shall we sit for dinner?” Gansey asks in an attempt to change the subject, for which Adam is eternally grateful.

They try to eat quickly, but it takes longer than planned, all of them bickering and laughing and arguing over the food. After dinner, Calla takes Adam aside and hands him a small box. Adam opens his mouth to protest but Calla speaks first. 

“Shut it, Coca Cola. They’re healing stones. You’ll need them, especially for nightmares and stress. It’s from all of us, by the way. Me, Maura, and Persephone.”

At Persephone’s name, Adam feels something prick at his eyes. His throat feels thick with some unnamed emotion. “I… thank you. I should’ve—I’m sorry I didn’t get y’all anything.” 

Calla waves her hand. “Don’t be an idiot.” 

Adam, Ronan, and Opal drive to the Barns in the BMW, the other three following behind them in the Pig.

Opal is mad at Ronan because he forced her to eat healthy food at Fox Way, instead of the footy teas and grilled bark Maura had prepared for her. 

“You’re in the real world now, Opal,” Ronan snaps. “You have to eat normal food. So stop being a brat. ” 

Opal screeches loudly. “ _You_ stop being a brat.” 

Adam tries to hide his laugh behind his hand, but Ronan catches him and glowers. 

“You’re supposed to be on my side, Parrish.” 

“Sorry, Lynch. Opal is right. Maybe Opal and I should just go to the forest tonight so we can have tasty bark and not have to see your bratty face the entire time.”

Opal shrieks her agreement, and Adam leans back over the center to extend his fist. She grins widely at him and bumps his fist with her own, the gesture familiar from seeing it constantly between Adam and Gansey, Ronan and Blue. She looks pleased at becoming a part of the club. Before he can take his fist back, though, she takes it in her hands and kisses his knuckles, squeezing his hand and smiling at him. A rush of fondness overcomes Adam, and he has to turn away to keep himself composed.

“Can’t believe you and the urchin are ganging up on me,” Ronan grumbles.

“Why not? We always gang up on you.” 

“Yeah,” Opal agrees. “Because we’re always right and Kerah is always wrong.”

She moves up between their seats and extends her fist to Adam again, and Adam bumps it, smiling at her. 

There is a soft look on Ronan’s face as he watches this exchange from the corner of his eye, but when Adam turns fully to him, his sneer is back on. 

“Way to be a traitor. You certainly weren’t acting like you didn’t want to see my bratty face this morning.”

Adam flushes, remembering his needy and obsessed behavior upon waking up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t, Mr. _stay_ , _five more minutes, ten more minutes, come back to bed_ , _don’t leave me_ ,” Ronan mocks in an exaggerated, high pitched version of Adam’s Henrietta accent. 

Adam turns redder. “I didn’t say all that! And I can’t be held accountable for what I say or do when I’m half asleep.”

“I don’t know, you seemed pretty awake when you grabbed my arm and landed yourself on top of me to keep me from leaving,” Ronan says with a shit-eating grin.

Adam glares at him. “I didn’t—that’s not—don’t be a dick.”

“Never,” Ronan says, still smirking, and then he takes Adam’s hand and brings it to his mouth, looking at him for a dangerous amount of time considering that he’s driving. 

Adam rolls his eyes fondly and ducks his head, feeling warm. 

At the Barns, they first feast themselves on holiday treats. Ronan makes hot chocolate and eggnog, and Blue and Henry bring a large variety of cookies and cakes and snacks.

Opal takes a particular liking to whipped cream, and she overflows Adam’s hot chocolate mug with a tower of whipped cream. Ronan accidentally knocks Adam’s arm and the mug jostles, the cream getting all over his nose.

“ _Lynch_ ,” Adam complains. 

Ronan laughs at the image of Adam with his whipped cream covered-nose, and then he leans closer and kisses Adam’s nose, tongue poking out to lick the cream off.

Adam is equal parts embarrassed and endeared and aroused and appalled.

“You guys are sickening,” Henry says with glee. Ronan flips him the bird, casually slinging an arm around Adam’s shoulders and kissing the top of his head. Adam leans into Ronan’s touch.

When it’s time for presents, they sit in a circle on the floor of the living room. Adam and Ronan sit with their shoulders pressed together and backs against the couch. Opal plops down on Adam’s lap, and he smiles down at her, softly kissing the top of her head.

After that, it’s a chaotic mess of exchanged gifts and obnoxious laughs and warm hugs. 

Henry gifts Adam a book on engineering, after their multiple conversations on the topic and Adam mentioning that he wants to go into the field. In return, Adam gives him CD’s of his favorite terrible music and an acclaimed book on protests and the politics of student government. Ronan gives Henry dream hair gel that will give his hair perfect, permanent spikes, at which Henry looks genuinely touched, and Henry tosses Ronan a collection of awful movies that they both love and that everyone else loathes. Adam shakes his head, vowing to kill Henry if Ronan ends up forcing him to watch the movies with him.

Adam gives Gansey a leather journal for whatever new quest of knowledge he wants to go on next, and receives a set of books on the scientific method and physics topics that Gansey knows Adam is interested in. 

As others exchange presents, Adam’s mind wanders, his nerves fraying about tonight. Something feels significant and monumental about this night, about this holiday celebrated in the warmth of the Barns, with fireflies and twinkling lights and mistletoe all around them. Adam wonders if there are many more Christmases like this for him in the future. He hopes so. 

Blue gives Adam a large photo frame that she made herself from various materials lying in Fox Way, and in the frame is a collage of photos of all of them: the five of them laughing in Cabeswater, Adam rolling his eyes at Ronan, Blue’s arm looped around Adam’s shoulder, Adam and Henry grinning at each other while Gansey looks exasperated in the background, Adam hugging Opal, Adam at Fox Way with Calla and Persephone, Adam surrounded by the people he loves and who love him. In all of them, he is smiling, or at the very least, looks content. 

Adam’s throat feels thick and he opens his mouth to thank Blue, but no words come out. She just smiles at him in understanding. Adam nudges Opal off his lap as he grabs his gifts, and then he hands Blue a travel book highlighting the sights of Venezuela and a small snow globe like object that resembled a night sky filled with stars. When she shakes it, the stars spiral inside the glass like galaxies. Blue breaks into a grin and launches herself at Adam, hugging him tightly, and then kissing his cheek when she pulls away. 

Adam blushes despite himself, and as he settles down again, Ronan raises his eyebrows at him, moving a little closer and putting his hand on his knee. Adam scoffs and rolls his eyes.

Opal, apparently having inherited Ronan’s jealousy, plops herself down on Adam’s lap again and kisses both of his cheeks and then glares at Blue. 

Blue watches this exchange with amusement and can’t stop herself from bursting into laughter, and Adam joins her a second later. Henry and Gansey are grinning, too, while Ronan and Opal glower at all of them. 

“You’ve truly got a handful there, Parrish,” Henry says.

Adam grins fondly at Ronan and wraps his arms tighter around Opal, who leans back into him. “Trust me, I know.”

Ronan flips them both off, but his mouth quirks up. 

Next, Blue gives Ronan a knit beanie with a stitched raven saying, “Fuck you!” in a quote bubble and a matching miniature beanie for Chainsaw. Ronan breaks into delighted laughter, and when Ronan hands Blue her gift – a skirt made up of glowing dream fabric and fingerless gloves that changed color depending on the wearer’s mood – Blue hugs Ronan as hard as she hugged Adam. 

As she does, Ronan whispers in her ear, “Want to help me with an experiment?”

Blue pulls back and raises her eyebrows. Ronan grins wickedly and nods his head towards Opal.

Opal is already watching them with narrowed eyes, and when Ronan leans down to kiss Blue on top of her head, she squawks out an indignant, “Kerah!”

When Ronan shifts back towards Adam and Opal, Opal glares at Ronan as he shakes with laughter.

“Don’t worry, Opal,” Blue assures from where she’s sitting between Adam and Gansey. “They love you way more. It’s no contest.”

Opal huffs, faking nonchalance, but Adam can tell she’s pleased. Sometimes she’s so much like Ronan that something inside Adam hurts. 

Opal is then showered with gifts – eccentric clothes knitted by Blue, a sketchbook, canvases, and set of paints from Gansey (which will probably end up being used on the Barns floor and furniture more than the canvases). Opal hands them pretty rocks and trinkets in return, as well as a flower crown that she made for Blue. 

Ronan gives her a new skullcap made of impossible dream fabric, so that it looks like a summer forest, the trees moving side to side in the wind, as if a video is being projected onto the cap. He also gives her a set of books: The Beauty and the Beast, The Little Mermaid, Thumbelina, Rapunzel. The books are leather-bound and worn, old but still beautiful.

“Mom and Dad used to read these to us when I was a kid,” Ronan says quietly, as he hands them to Opal. Adam knows how much this gift means, and Opal seems to know it too.

She smiles at Ronan shyly and hugs him, murmuring _gratias tibi_ into his ear.

Ronan hugs her back and mutters gruffly, “Yeah, yeah, just don’t chew on the pages, alright?” But Adam can hear the affection in his voice.

Adam gives her a science kit for kids (Opal always watches fascinated as Adam works on his Physics and Chemistry homework, and Adam had started to explain some concepts to her) and a small dollhouse complete with little figures meant to represent Ronan and Opal. He had almost added himself, but felt self conscious and presumptuous at the last moment. The dollhouse is made of wood and was the one that resembled the Barns the most out of the ones Adam had seen. 

“So you’ll always have a home,” Adam tells her, cupping her cheek. She leans into his palm and then kisses it. 

Opal gives Adam multiple rocks with painted images on it – of forests, of the barns, of fireflies, of Adam and Opal as stick figures amongst the magical backgrounds. Adam’s feels a lump in his throat, affection swelling up inside him. 

To Ronan, she gives a raven stuffed animal, a gift she picked out while shopping with Blue and Orla. 

A while back, Ronan had bought Opal a goat stuffed animal, and told her that if she was scared at night, she could hold it tight and she wouldn’t feel like she was so alone anymore. 

“For when you’re afraid,” Opal tells Ronan softly. Ronan doesn’t speak, but his eyes say enough. 

Then it’s Adam and Ronan’s turns to exchange gifts, and Adam’s heart starts beating faster in his chest. He feels slightly regretful that their friends are here to witness this, even though Blue helped him with parts of his present. Adam is self-conscious about what he chose, both because it feels inadequate and because it is extremely personal.

Ronan has a nervous look on his face as he hands a large box to Adam, which Adam unwraps quickly. Inside, there is a blanket.

Adam unfolds the whole thing, and the sheer size of it is enough to wrap at least two people comfortably. It is a swirl of blues and greens, waves of colors flowing into each other, almost glowing. There are patterns of trees and hands and something that Adam realizes is a wand. _Magician_.

“Wrap it around you,” Ronan tells him, voice muffled from where he’s chewing on leather. 

Curious, Adam complies, and then suddenly, he is overwhelmed. 

The feeling inside him when he is under the blanket is this: safety, comfort, belonging, home, home, home.

All around him is the smell of Cabeswater’s trees and Gansey’s mint leaves and Blue’s floral shampoo and Opal’s scent of hooves and vanilla and the herbs of Fox Way and most of all, _Ronan, Ronan, Ronan._ Ronan’s unique scent of gasoline and leather and sweat and grass overwhelms all the others, enveloping Adam completely in something familiar and protective.

Adam breathes in deep and looks at Ronan, who is watching him uncertainly, his light eyes wide and bright, his lashes fanning out.

Adam exhales shakily and swallows. “It smells like you,” he says softly, and then unwraps himself and folds the blanket slowly.

Gansey breaks the moment. “Ronan, you dreamt him something that smells like you? That’s rather egotistical.”

Gansey’s tone is joking, but Ronan glares at him anyways, and then turns back to Adam, something vulnerable and joyous in his eyes. “That isn’t—I dreamed it to smell like whatever you find the most comforting, Parrish. Whatever makes you feel happy and safe and—It changes, too, depending on what you need at the moment. It was for… I mean, for here, too, whenever you’re sleeping alone, but mostly… for when you leave. If I’m not there or Opal isn’t and you’re scared or—you have nightmares or you just need—“ Ronan breaks off, having used up his quota of words, and starts gnawing at leather aggressively.

Adam feels a lump in his throat so large that it makes it impossible for him to speak, makes it difficult for him to even breathe. His eyes are burning. His lip trembles.

Adam just stares at Ronan for endless moments, his mouth opening and closing, his expression raw.

Finally, Ronan says, “Adam?”

Adam swallows again and simply leans over and kisses Ronan deeply.

He hears someone make a noise of complaint but it feels miles away. It’s only him and Ronan, only Adam’s hands cupping Ronan’s face, only Ronan’s fingers clutching Adam’s shirt, only this all consuming burning between them. 

When he pulls away, he feels sufficiently undone, and he suspects Ronan does too. 

Ronan clears his throat. “So, I guess that means you liked it?”

Adam huffs out a dry laugh that comes out more like a sob, and then he hands Ronan’s present to him, his pulse hammering in his veins. 

Ronan opens the large blue book to the first page, which reads _for new memories_. 

The pages are filled with trinkets from their life: the check from their first date, pressed flowers from the bouquet Adam had sent Ronan as well as from the morning Ronan dreamt them, speeding tickets from all the times Ronan had driven him, the St. Agnes apartment flier that Ronan had slipped into Adam’s backpack months ago, a page of Latin verbs from the singular time Ronan actually took notes because Adam was sick, a page of Adam trying to draw Ronan’s tattoo from memory (and getting it relatively close), endless symbols of this new thing between them, many related to aspects of Ronan’s life that had been essential to him when he still had parents.

It is completely silent in the room as Ronan flips through the pages, his expression unreadable as he does. Only a portion of the book is filled; the rest of the pages are empty, waiting for their future. 

Adam stares at Ronan, his heart pounding. When Ronan finally puts the book down and looks at Adam, his face is raw. 

“Adam,” Ronan says quietly, and everything he needs to say is contained in that one word.

Adam clears his throat. “I have something else, too.” He takes another box from the pile and hands it to Ronan.

Inside, there is a hardcover, vintage edition of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. 

A few weeks ago, Ronan had been grumbling about the Barns in a bad mood. When Adam had asked, he muttered something about not being able to find his mother’s copy of Alice in Wonderland. When Adam asked about it again a while later, he still hadn’t found it, and though he tried to feign indifference, he knew that losing it had genuinely upset him.

“I know that it can’t replace the one you lost, but…” Adam trails off.

Ronan simply takes Adam’s hands and brings it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. Adam is hyperaware of their friends watching them, the atmosphere of the room feeling heavy.

“Sheesh,” Henry says, breaking the moment. “Next time you two can exchange gifts alone. This shit is too sappy for witnesses.” 

Ronan sneers at Henry and flips him off a third time.

Some time later, Blue, Gansey, and Henry leave the Barns, and Ronan tucks Opal in, who is already half asleep. 

Adam is lying on Ronan’s bed in sweatpants and a t-shirt when Ronan comes into the room, Adam’s presents in his hands. He looks at Adam with a complicated expression and then puts the two books on the side table next to the bed. 

Ronan collapses down next to him, and then they’re on their sides, facing each other.

Ronan’s eyes roam Adam’s face, seemingly searching for something. Adam reaches out and brushes his fingers over Ronan’s eyebrows. Ronan’s lips quirk slightly. 

Adam’s voice is a little hoarse from disuse. “So. I think today was probably the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

“That isn’t really saying much, Parrish.” 

Adam gives him a withering look. “Ronan.” 

“What?”

“Don’t be a shitbag.” 

“Right. Sorry.”

Adam takes Ronan’s hand in his, traces over the lines on his palm. He doesn’t look at Ronan when he speaks. “We used to celebrate Christmas back when I was younger, occasionally. Sometimes they gave me small presents and told me I should be grateful to have such generous parents.” 

Ronan’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“They mostly stopped as I got older,” Adam continues, his voice neutral, unemotional. “Mostly my dad just drank a lot on Christmas and other holidays and then…” He trails off, knowing Ronan can fill in the blanks.

“Well, good thing you’ll never have a Christmas like that ever again,” Ronan says fiercely.

“Yeah,” Adam agrees quietly. 

There is silence for a few minutes, until Ronan interrupts it. “We used to… Christmas was always my Dad’s favorite holiday. We always went all out. There were lights everywhere and a huge fucking Christmas tree with dream ornaments. Mom made her famous eggnog and Dad baked cookies with Matthew and me. We’d each get at least three presents every year. Declan always complained because my presents from Dad were better than his, the jealous shit.” 

Ronan’s voice is soft and vulnerable and young. Adam understands the gravity of what he’s being given. He squeezes Ronan’s had.

Ronan exhales and then continues. “After food and presents, Mom would always read to us, and sometimes Dad would join her. We’d sit around the fire, and she’d bring out her favorite books, and…” Ronan swallows and breaks off, a wet sheen in his eyes.

Adam kisses him, his palm cupping Ronan’s cheek.

“You know,” Adam murmurs when they break apart, “I’ve never read Alice in Wonderland.”

“You’re kidding.” Ronan sounds outrageously offended.

“I think I saw the movie, once, when I was really young… Don’t really remember it, though.”

“Parrish, you have to fucking read it.”

Adam just shrugs.

“Are you tired?” There is something hesitant in Ronan’s tone.

“Not particularly. Why?”

“Well, I was thinking… since you haven’t read it, maybe you could… read it aloud?”

Adam’s eyes widen in surprise, but he recovers quickly. “I—um, yeah. Sure. Are you sure you want to listen to me read it though?”

Ronan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, dumbass. I like your voice.”

“Oh. Okay. Sure.” Adam sits up and Ronan hands him the book. Ronan shifts so that his head is in Adam’s lap, turned away from Adam, and he’s curled into himself. He looks so young and peaceful, and it tugs at Adam’s insides.

Adam strokes his buzzed head, and Ronan lets out a content sound. He drops a kiss to Ronan’s temple and starts reading. 

“ _Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do…_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the super shitty chapter. Future ones will be better, hopefully. Anyways, everyone write fic for Pynch week~~~


	12. jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam thinks about how Ronan had Gansey before he had anyone else. He thinks about how Ronan almost certainly had a crush on Gansey in the initial days of their friendship. He thinks about how Gansey knew a Ronan that Adam would never know. Adam doesn’t like to put Ronan Lynch in boxes. There is no _before_ and _after_ , there is only Ronan, and Adam doesn’t want him to be anything other than he is. But Adam can’t deny that there is a part of Ronan that he’ll never truly know, not the way Gansey does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of all over the place but *shrug emoji*. I've given up trying to pretend like I'm not going to end up writing smut in like every other chapter, at this point. Also, thank you so much for all the sweet comments. I'm terrible at replying to them and I've given up trying to catch up at this point but I appreciate all of them a lot <3

On December 31st, Ronan opens the door to the Barns to a very cold-looking Adam Parrish, and he freezes at the sight.

Adam is wearing a puffy winter jacket and the scarf that Ronan gave him, and his ears and nose and cheeks are bright red from the cold. His hair is sticking up in various directions, and there are snowflakes sprinkled all over him. 

Ronan is so helplessly endeared that he just stares at him in admiration instead of letting him in. 

Adam huffs in annoyance. “Are you going to let me in, Lynch? If you hadn’t noticed, it’s freezing out here.”

Ronan shakes himself out of his stupor and moves aside. When Adam starts to remove his jacket, Ronan stops him. 

“What?” 

“Just—wait a minute. Don’t remove anything. Stand still, Parrish.” And then he disappears for a moment before coming back with a blue beanie that he ungracefully pulls onto Adam’s head. 

Adam moves the beanie up so that it’s not covering his eyes and glares at Ronan. “What the fuck?” 

“You might as well complete the look.”

“What the fuck,” Adam repeats. He tries to take the beanie off but Ronan firmly holds it on his head. 

“Leave it on.” 

Adam looks bewildered. “Why?”

Ronan shrugs in practiced nonchalance. “It looks cute.”

Adam rolls his eyes, but his cheeks turn pinker than they already are. “Right.”

“It does,” Ronan insists, and then takes Adam’s face in his hands and kisses his extremely red nose, his lips, his chin, and then trails upwards to his cheek.

Adam shakes him off, feigning annoyance, but there’s a smile on his lips. “You’re such a loser.”

“Keep the beanie. You’ll need it.”

Adam frowns at that, a retort on his lips, but Ronan just continues, “And don’t fight me on that, Parrish. Trust me, it’s more for me than it is for you.”

Adam relents and Ronan finally lets him take off his winter apparel in the warmth of the house.

“Want some hot chocolate? Opal just had some.” 

“Sure. Where is Opal?”

Ronan snorts. “She’s chasing Chainsaw in the backyard. The little squirt doesn’t understand that she won’t be able to fucking catch her.” 

Adam laughs at the absurdity of it. “Of course.”

They sprawl on the couch with their hot chocolate, shoulders pressed together. Adam tells Ronan about his day at work and Ronan talks about the things he dreamed and how he’s planning an elaborate project to fix up the Barns.

The fireplace crackles in front of them and they kiss until they can’t breathe anymore.

Finally, Adam pulls back and sighs. “We should probably leave for Litchfield soon.”

Right. The New Years party at Henry Cheng’s that they agreed to attend for some reason. 

Ronan lets out a groan. “Let’s just skip it, man.” 

“We promised Gansey. And it might be fun. If it’s not, we’ll bail early.” He hesitates. “We’ll have to leave separately, though, because I drove my car here and I need it tomorrow.”

Ronan frowns. “You’re going back to St. Agnes afterwards? We could just go back to the Barns. You don’t even have work early tomorrow.”

Adam very carefully avoids looking at Ronan. “Yeah, but there’s… some stuff I need to get done. I just want to get ahead on everything. It’s fine, I’ll just sleep at my place.” Then, he adds, “You can come to St. Agnes, if you want.” 

Ronan has sharp words on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows them down. He doesn’t want to fight tonight. He knows that Adam is just looking for excuses not to stay at the Barns. 

It’s not like he never stays. He’s slept over quite a few times, and most of those times Ronan did not even have to ask. Adam seems to have set rules and limits for himself, though. He can’t spend more than one night a week, can’t stay two nights in a row, or some ridiculous shit like that. Only a temporary guest, never a resident. And he’s already spent his quota for this week during Christmas.

Ronan has made it abundantly clear that he wants Adam at the Barns, that this place can be as much a home to Adam as it is to Ronan. He wonders how long it will take Adam to believe it. He wonders how much to push the subject, whether this is something Adam needs to work out on his own. 

There is no limit to what Ronan is willing to give to Adam Parrish. He would give him the world and more, if only Adam would accept it from him. 

“I don’t want to leave Opal alone for the night,” Ronan says finally, trying to keep the bite out of his tone but most likely failing. “We’ll take both cars, then.”

Adam looks at him warily, the air suddenly tenser than it had been before. “Okay.”

 

*

 

They reach Cheng’s place at the same time, and Adam wonders if he’s imagining the strange atmosphere between them since he told Ronan he wouldn’t be staying at the Barns that night. 

It’s not that he didn’t want to. He almost always wants to. That’s part of the problem.

He’s trying, but he still can’t let himself have this, sometimes. He can’t let himself get too comfortable. He can’t let himself accept that magical home that Ronan is offering him without hesitation. He hasn’t earned it yet.

When they enter the house, it’s full of blinding strobe lights and terrible music, and the crowd is a little overwhelming. The boys make their way to a relatively empty corner, keeping their eyes peeled for Blue, Gansey, and Henry. 

Ronan grabs a beer and Adam gives him a disapproving look. Ronan rolls his eyes. “Relax, asshole, I know I’m driving later. I’ll only have a little.”

They stand awkwardly to the side for a while. This is _really_ not their scene.

Suddenly, a voice behind him shouts, “Adam Parrish, is that you?”

Adam turns around and comes face to face with Natasha Braverman, a tall girl with brown skin and dark, wavy hair that frames her glowing face. His eyes widen. 

“Natasha. Hi. Wow it’s been a while.” 

Natasha smiles at him and then leans in for a brief hug. Adam’s arms automatically wrap around her. When she pulls back, she says, “Yeah, it has. How are you?” She eyes him up and down. “You sure look good.”

Adam smiles back. “So do you.” Adam hesitates and looks at Ronan, who is studiously glaring at his feet, jaw clenched.

For some reason, Adam is annoyed. He’s allowed to talk to other people, Jesus Christ. Even if those people happen to be his ex-girlfriend who is standing a little closer than she should be, probably.

Adam decides to ignore Ronan’s passive aggressive posturing and makes small talk with Natasha for a few minutes. She soon spots one of her friends, however, and before she walks away, she hugs Adam again and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. 

Ronan is staring daggers at her retreating back.

“Lynch,” Adam says, putting as much disdain in his tone as possible. Normally he would have been a little pleased and endeared at Ronan being jealous, but inexplicably, his mood has soured in the past hour.

“So who was that?” Ronan’s voice is clipped.

Adam sighs, weary of this conversation already. “She was one of my coworkers at my old job.” 

Ronan finally looks him in the eye, and asks, voice casual, “That it?”

Adam doesn’t want to lie. “No, we, uh… we dated for a bit.” At Ronan’s expression, Adam rolls his eyes. “Are you seriously jealous? Relax, Lynch. I haven’t even seen her in over two years.” 

Ronan scowls. “I’m not fucking jealous. And I thought you said you hadn’t dated any of the girls you kissed.”

“I meant that I didn’t _seriously_ date anyone. We were only together for like two months, and it hardly meant anything.”

Ronan narrows his eyes. “ _We’ve_ only been together for two months.” 

“You know that’s not the same thing.”

“Isn’t it?” 

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing. We just talked.” 

“She kissed you.” 

“On the _cheek._ ” 

“She was clearly flirting with you, Parrish.”

“Even if she was, what’s the big deal? It’s not like I flirted back.”

“You kind of did.” 

“Jesus, Ronan—“ 

“You know what, fuck this. Have fun with Natalie. I’m going to go find Gansey.”

Adam stares incredulously as Ronan stomps away from him. He’s debating whether to go after him or not when Henry finds him and drags him away to introduce him to people. Adam isn’t particularly interested in meeting anyone, but his interest picks up when Henry introduces him to a sophomore at Columbia who is planning on becoming an engineer.

Henry knows that Columbia is one of his top choices, granted that he gets in, so Adam is grateful for the opportunity. Adam and the boy – James – actually get into a lengthy and stimulating conversation, and Adam can almost pretend that he’s not thinking about Ronan and their fight. 

Ronan is on the other side of the room, talking to Gansey and ignoring Adam’s presence, though Adam can feel his eyes dart over to him often. 

It’s only when James leans in close and whispers something unintelligible into Adam’s deaf ear and then stays too close to his face after pulling back that Adam realizes he’s being flirted with. 

Adam pulls back and then catches Ronan’s eye. Ronan had already been looking at him, and he pulls his face into a carefully neutral expression before making his way through the crowd and walking out the door.

Adam swears and goes after him, leaving a confused and disappointed James in his wake. 

Adam has a hard time getting through the throng of people, so he doesn’t catch up with Ronan until he’s already sitting in the BMW. Adam jogs over, afraid that Ronan is just going to drive away, but he manages to hastily get into the passenger seat before Ronan starts the engine. 

“I’m leaving, Parrish. Your car is here.” 

Adam doesn’t take the bait. “I’ll come back for it later.”

“You should go back inside. I’m sure Naomi will miss you.”

“It’s Natasha.” 

“Or that fancy college guy that was about to jump you. He’ll definitely miss you.” 

“I didn’t even realize he was hitting on me until the last minute, okay? Why are you acting like I did something wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Ronan says, voice rigid, and finally starts the car when he realizes Adam isn’t getting out. 

“No, really, tell me. Am I just never allowed to talk to people?” 

“I never fucking said that.” 

“Then why are you being such a dick?” 

“Look, I really don’t want to talk right now, all right?” 

“Well, I do.”

“Well, tough fucking luck.”

Adam clenches his jaw and stares out the window as they speed along the empty Henrietta streets. Ronan presses down hard on the pedal, and everything is a blur of dark and light. 

When Adam looks back at Ronan, his knuckles are white around the steering wheel, his eyes sharp and focused. The streetlights emphasize all of Ronan’s sharp angles; his jaw, the line of his throat, the jut of his collarbone. Adam feels something building inside him, some kind of animalistic hunger that mixes with his anger and turns overwhelming. Adam forces himself to look away from Ronan, to control his racing heart and the heat in his veins, but all of it is too much – the fight, the tension over staying at the Barns, the fact that it’s going to be a new year in a little over an hour, Ronan, Ronan, _Ronan_. 

“Ronan,” Adam says, trying to keep his voice even. “Will you just—We need to talk about this.”

Ronan suddenly pulls over onto the side of the empty road, and Adam feels his stomach lurch. 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Adam spits, irritated.

“I don’t want to talk.”

“It doesn’t matter if you _want_ to, we have to—“ 

“No,” Ronan says, simply, like that ends the conversation. When Ronan turns to look at him, Adam’s breath catches. His eyes are dark, and Adam sees that same overwhelming _something_ inside of them, drawing him in.

He forces himself to focus on the situation. “Then what the hell do you suggest we do, Lynch? Because—“ 

Adam is cut off when Ronan’s lip crashes against his, hot and bruising. Adam kisses back with equal force, just for a moment, before he pulls back. 

“What the hell, Ronan?” Adam means it to sound strict, reproachful, but he can hear the arousal in his voice. 

Ronan shrugs, breathing hard already, his hungry gaze like fire on Adam’s skin. “This is better than talking.”

Well, Adam can’t argue with that. When Ronan’s lips find his again, Adam doesn’t resist. 

Ronan’s hands find Adam’s hair and pull just a little, which makes Adam gasp against his mouth. And then he’s pulling back to climb over the center console onto Ronan’s lap, in an awkward mess that is probably pretty unattractive. 

In some part of his head, Adam knows that this isn’t the best idea. Having sex when they’re still in a fight, still angry, instead of talking it out isn’t healthy communication. But that part is drowned by the desire coursing through him, by the smell and feel of Ronan so close, by Ronan’s lips hot against his own. And, well, they haven’t had much time alone since that night after Midnight Mass, and maybe it’s only been a week, but that’s far too long for Adam. 

Ronan trails wet kisses from his lips to his jaw to his throat, lightly biting below his Adam’s apple, sucking right above his collarbone, his hands gripping Adam’s hips. Adam is panting heavily as Ronan charts his throat, his fingers digging into Ronan’s scalp. 

Adam grinds down into Ronan, drawing a groan from the other boy, and then they’re both unabashedly hard. 

“Ronan,” Adam breathes, “We should—backseat.” 

“Too far,” Ronan growls into the hollow of his throat.

Adam can’t argue with that, either. He thinks he’d rather die than stop touching Ronan right now, even for a few seconds. He also thinks there might be something seriously wrong with him. 

Adam fumbles with Ronan’s zipper and then palms him through his boxers, and Ronan hisses into Adam’s shoulder.

“Wait,” Ronan says, voice wrecked. Adam pulls back in confusion, and then Ronan takes his phone and plugs it into the car. 

“Ronan, are you really—“

“Shut up.” 

Adam huffs in annoyance. After a few seconds, a low, pulsing beat starts playing out of the speakers. Adam recognizes the song from the _The Backseat_ mixtape that Ronan had put in the Hondayota.

Adam gapes at Ronan. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, Parrish, _seriously_. The fuck did you think I made that mix for? If we’re finally having sex in the car, we need to do it right.”

Adam opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. “You’re unbelievable.” It comes out sounding like both a compliment and an insult. 

Ronan kisses him again, and when Ronan’s hands travel below the waistband of his jeans to cup his ass, Adam lets out a surprised yelp and bangs his head on the ceiling. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Adam hisses.

Ronan laughs in response, and Adam glares at him.

“Not fucking funny, Lynch. I’m going in the backseat. I don’t feel like getting a concussion tonight.” 

Ronan makes an annoyed noise but follows after him anyways. They maneuver themselves so that Ronan is straddling Adam, and Ronan hastily takes Adam’s shirt off, throwing it unceremoniously on the floor. Ronan tries to push Adam backwards, but Adam slips his hands under Ronan’s shirt first.

“Yours too,” Adam breathes. He wants to touch every inch of Ronan’s skin with a ferocious need, suddenly. 

Ronan complies, and then they’re lying on the seat with Ronan on top of Adam, his lips attached to Adam’s throat. Ronan takes his time, sucking on every part of Adam’s skin that he can reach. He’s not particularly gentle, this time, the way he usually is. Adam doesn’t mind. Considering the circumstances, he doesn’t think that either of them want to be gentle with each other tonight. 

Ronan kisses down the expanse of his chest, licking a nipple, hands palming Adam through his jeans. A strangled sound escapes Adam’s lips, and his nails dig in to Ronan’s back, hard enough that they’ll leave marks. 

Ronan takes far too long to unbutton his jeans, and Adam grits out an impatient, “Hurry up, Lynch.”

Ronan rolls his eyes at him, and Adam feels a surge of real annoyance and anger. Which, for some unfathomable reason, just serves to make his desire stronger. The whole thing is incredibly inconvenient. 

When Ronan finally pushes his jeans and boxers down in one smooth motion, Adam thinks the torture is over, but then Ronan is kissing along his inner thigh, not touching him at all, and Adam digs his nails in deeper, letting out a slightly pathetic whine. Ronan just laughs in response.

“You’re such a _fucking_ asshole,” Adam pants, not really joking.

Ronan just smirks at him once, and then, without warning, takes him fully into his mouth. Adam stutters out a curse, his fingers surely drawing blood at this point. Ronan seems to like that, though. His hands move upwards, clutching the nape of Ronan’s neck. The electronic beat pulsing from the speaker silences the outside world, so that the BMW and the heat between them is all that exists. 

He’s always tempted to close his eyes when Ronan does this, but a stronger part of him wants to _see_ it, wants to soak in and bask in the fact that Ronan Lynch is doing this for him. Adam leans up a tiny bit and meets Ronan’s hooded eyes, and he’s again rendered weak by the sight of him; the wild tattoo covering his back, his hollowed out cheeks, his gaze burning Adam up from the inside out. 

Adam still isn’t vocal the way Ronan is, but he lets more soft moans slip than usual. He knows Ronan likes to hear him, so he whispers, voice hoarse and wanting, “You’re so good.” 

Ronan lets out a low noise, his eyes darkening further.

Adam finds it hard to hold onto his previous feelings of annoyance when Ronan’s eyes are locked onto his, when Adam is stroking his hands over Ronan’s buzzed head, when Ronan’s hands are caressing Adam’s ribs like something precious.

“That’s really good, Ronan,” Adam says, and revels in Ronan’s visible reaction. 

One of Ronan’s hands leaves Adam’s stomach, and Adam can see Ronan grabbing himself through his jeans. Adam’s breath hitches at the sight, at Ronan getting off from getting Adam off, from hearing Adam praise him.

As Ronan’s movements get faster, Adam starts babbling with increasing urgency, voice quiet but desperate, “Ronan, oh my _god_ , you’re amazing, yes, that’s good, that’s so—“ 

And then Adam comes with a groan. His mind is filled with white fuzzy light, his insides feel like jelly, and he’s too blissed out to register much else. He’s distantly aware of Ronan pulling off and muttering out curses. He closes his eyes, wanting to stay in this moment. 

When he finally comes back to himself, he realizes that Ronan is aggressively jerking himself off, swearing wildly as usual. Adam sits up and tries to do it for Ronan, but Ronan just grabs Adam’s hand and ungracefully stuffs three of his fingers into his mouth. All he has to do is suck a few times and then he’s coming all over the seat.

Adam extracts his fingers as Ronan catches his breath and cleans up.

“You couldn’t wait for a minute? I would’ve gotten you off,” Adam grumbles, annoyed again. He feels a little cheated. He _likes_ watching Ronan coming apart under his touch. 

Ronan just gives him a scornful look and zips up his jeans. He leans back against the window, and with some difficulty, they adjust so that Adam’s head is on his chest and their legs are tangled together.

Ronan takes one of Adam’s hands and brings it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles thoroughly.

“Your hand fetish is weird,” Adam points out. Ronan has never directly said that he loves Adam's hands, but Adam knows it, has known it since the first night they kissed and Ronan put Adam's fingers to his mouth.  

Ronan bites his finger in response, though the tips of his ears turn red. “I don’t see you complaining, dickhead.” 

Adam rolls his eyes and burrows his face further into Ronan’s chest. One of Ronan’s arms is around his waist, fingers trailing up and down his stomach. 

“So are we still fighting?” Adam asks finally.

“Beats me,” Ronan replies, unconcerned.

Adam sighs and leans on his elbow to look at Ronan. “You know you don’t have a reason to be jealous, right?”

Ronan shrugs, all practiced nonchalance, eyes averted. Adam kisses the corner of his mouth.

“Well, you don’t, and you should know that, dumbass.”

“You seemed to be having a good time with Preppy College Boy.”

Adam tries to keep his temper from rising again. “Yeah, we had an interesting conversation, so what? That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Okay,” Ronan says, still sounding dubious. 

“Besides,” Adam adds, smiling crookedly, “He’s not my type. He reminds me way too much of Gansey.” 

Ronan lets out a sharp laugh. “Enlighten me, Parrish. What is your type then?” 

“Hmm,” Adam pretends to think, his fingers tracing lines on Ronan’s chest. “I like guys that are more rough around the edges. Tattoos. Shaved heads. Complete assholes.” 

“Too bad we don’t know any of those.” 

Adam hums in agreement.

Ronan hesitates, seemingly struggling with something. Adam waits. Finally, Ronan says, “I didn’t mean to imply that you couldn’t… talk to people or whatever. That’s shitty. I was just…” He sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “I don’t know. It was stupid.”

“It was,” Adam says softly, and just like that, their fight is over. Then he sits up. “Fuck. What time is it?” He grabs Ronan’s phone. “It’s 12:11. We missed the countdown.”

“Don’t they say that how you spend your New Years is representative of how the rest of the year will be? I’m pretty sure we were having sex when the clock struck midnight. Sounds like a win to me.” 

Adam huffs, part exasperated and part fond.

They lie there for a while, until Adam starts to feel sleepy. “We should get back. I have to pick up my car.”

As they make their way back to Litchfield, Ronan asks, “You sure you don’t want to just stay at the Barns tonight?” His tone is hopeful, and Adam hates that he can’t make himself accept Ronan’s offer.

Adam purses his lip. “I… not tonight. I’ll stay over next weekend, though.”

Ronan looks disappointed, but he doesn’t argue.

 

*

 

When Ronan answers the door next Friday, he looks extremely pissed off. Adam can hear Opal wailing loudly in the background.

He goes inside wordlessly and finds Opal on the couch, sobbing hysterically. 

Adam stares at Ronan. “What the hell happened?”

“Why don’t you ask the brat since she’s so goddamn independent and can make her own decisions, no matter how stupid they are?” 

Opal cries louder.

“ _Ronan._ ” 

Adam goes over to sit next to Opal and puts his arm around her. She immediately buries her face into his chest. 

“Shhh, it’s okay. What’s wrong, Opal?” 

“ _Timeo, timeo_ ,” Opal sobs into his shirt.

“I _told_ you that you’d be scared, but you wouldn’t fucking listen,” Ronan snarls.

Adam glares at him. “What happened, Lynch?” 

“She watched The Babadook and now she’s terrified.”

“You let her watch a horror movie?” Adam asks incredulously.

“I didn’t _let_ her anything. It was coming on TV and I told her to shut it off but she wouldn’t. When I tried to change the channel she started screaming and kicking shit. The fuck was I supposed to do?”

Adam sighs and hugs Opal tighter. “It’s okay, Opal. Nothing’s going to hurt you. It was just a movie.” 

Opal’s wails quiet down to sniffles and whimpers, and Adam kisses the top of her head and runs his fingers through her hair soothingly.

Ronan sits down on the other side of Opal and leans into her. His voice is unusually gentle when he says, “Come on. You should go to bed. I can read to you until you fall asleep, okay?” 

“Okay,” Opal says softly, rubbing her eyes.

They tuck her in bed and sit on either side of her.

“Okay, brat. What do you want me to read?”

Opal thinks about it for a moment and then says, “ _Cantabo._ ”

Adam raises his eyebrows, hoping that Ronan won’t sing the Murder Squash Song as a lullaby. 

Ronan looks reluctant, but then he starts singing.

Adam’s breath catches. He realizes he’s never heard Ronan truly sing, besides when he’s singing the Murder Squash Song or some other horrible tune and distorting his voice on purpose.

It’s beautiful. Adam doesn’t understand the words, but he guesses that it’s an Irish lullaby. It’s soft and haunting, and Ronan’s voice is like silver rain pattering on warm soil, like early morning sunlight pouring in through the window.

Ronan’s expression is just as soft as his voice as he looks at Opal and gently strokes her hair. It doesn’t take long for her breathing to even out, and then Ronan stops singing. He nods his head to Adam, and they silently make their way to Ronan’s room. 

They collapse back on the bed, and Adam turns to look at Ronan. 

“I didn’t know you could sing,” Adam says, voice almost accusing.

“I sing all the time, Parrish.”

“No, you wail out the Murder Squash Song and other atrocities. I’ve never heard you sing like _that_.”

Ronan shrugs, looking up at the ceiling. “I used to, when I was younger. My dad, he… he had an amazing voice. He would always sing around the house, mostly in Irish. I learned all the songs from him.” 

Adam takes Ronan’s hand and laces their fingers together.

Ronan takes a shaky breath and continues. “That lullaby… my mom used to sing it to us when we couldn’t fall asleep. My dad taught it to her, but she was the one who always sang us to sleep. Her voice was…” He swallows and closes his eyes. “It was like light. My dad always said her voice was like light.”

Adam leans up on his arm and kisses the corner of Ronan’s eyelid, his cheekbone. “So is yours. You should sing more often. Your voice is beautiful.” 

Ronan scoffs at the words, but his ears turn pink.

“So, do you play the bagpipes, too?” Adam asks, grinning. 

Ronan glares at him, but stays silent.

Adam’s grin turns gleeful. “Oh my god, you _do._ What about the accordion? Flute and fiddle?”

“I don’t play the fucking accordion.”

Adam bursts into laughter, and Ronan swats at him. “Fuck you, Parrish. I only learned the basics. I was like eight, alright?” 

“You have to play the bagpipes for me.” 

“You’re hilarious.” 

“Seriously. Who knows, maybe I’ll be into it.” 

“I lied, I never played the bagpipes. Can we switch topics now?”

Adam sighs woefully. “If we have to.”

“Thank fuck. Hey, you don’t have work tomorrow until the evening right?” 

“No, why?”

“Opal was watching all these Christmas cartoons and now she wants to go ice skating and build a snowman and shit. I told her she’d have a hard time ice-skating with fucking hooves, but she wouldn’t listen. We could go tomorrow, if you want to come with us.” 

Adam bites his lip. “Uh, sure. I’ve never been ice skating before, though.”

“Seriously?” 

Adam just stares at him.

“Right, well, then I guess I’ll dream two pairs of ice skates tonight.” 

“Is it hard to learn?” 

“Not really. You’ll just fall on your ass about a hundred times. Don’t worry, though. I’ll be there to hold your hand if you get scared.”

Adam looks at him witheringly. Ronan grins.

 

*

 

When Adam enters the kitchen the next morning, rumpled and bleary-eyed, Ronan is making breakfast, humming a soft tune. He doesn’t notice Adam immediately, so Adam uses the opportunity to study an open, unshielded Ronan, singing to himself in the early hours of the day. He’s wearing a black tank and gray sweatpants low on his hips, and Adam eyes him shamelessly. 

“Took my advice to sing more often, Lynch?” 

Ronan startles at Adam’s voice. “Have you been watching me this whole time? Fucking creep.” 

Adam rolls his eyes and walks closer to the other boy. Ronan’s lips turn up in an amused smile. 

“What?” Adam asks, furrowing his brows.

“Have you looked in the mirror yet, Parrish? You should really do something about that hair.” 

Adam’s hands immediately go to his head, where all his hair is sticking up in tufts, and he groans. Ronan snickers as he walks over to Adam and ruffles his hair, and Adam punches his arm. 

“How long have you been awake?” Adam asks, leaning back against the counter. 

“About two hours.” 

Adam will never understand how Ronan voluntarily wakes up that early. Adam rarely gets to sleep in, but whenever he has the opportunity, he takes full advantage of it.

Ronan hands him a cup of coffee, and Adam kisses his cheek as their fingers brush. 

“Thanks,” Adam says. Ronan stands next to him against the counter, shoulder pressed against his. “Where’s Opal?” 

“Running around in the grass in ice skates.” 

Adam raises his eyebrows. 

“Don’t ask. I told her we’re going later today and that they’re meant to be used on the fucking _ice_ , but did she listen?”

“I’m guessing the answer is no,” Adam says wryly. 

“Don’t make fun, Parrish. She’s a nightmare.” 

“You love her,” Adam corrects.

Ronan grunts, and Adam knows it’s a _yeah, I really do_.

 

*

 

Adam hates ice skating. He really, really hates it.

There is only one indoor ice rink near Henrietta, and it’s not a very smooth one. There are several small kids skating around him that have no problem with it, while Adam hasn’t left the wall of the rink for the ten minutes that they’ve been here. 

“Come on, Parrish, it’s not that hard,” Ronan says, as he glides around in circles like some fucking figure skating champion.

“Shut up, Lynch,” Adam grits out for the fifth time. 

“Just hold my hand.” 

Ronan isn’t wearing gloves, because he never dresses appropriately, but he does have a particularly endearing beanie on, and his cheeks are pink from the cold. Adam, as per Ronan’s request, is also wearing a winter cap, along with the scarf Ronan gave him a while back. He huddled in one of Ronan’s old winter jackets, which Ronan insisted he had to use because his own is _too fucking thin you’re gonna get frostbite Parrish,_ but Adam knows Ronan just likes him wearing his clothes.

“No,” Adam replies stubbornly. He can do this on his own. It’s just ice-skating. Little kids are doing it. It’s fine. He can do this.

Opal is on the other side of the rink, making her way slowly but surely, falling down every other second but enjoying herself immensely. Ronan had offered to guide her, but she stuck his nose up at him and skated away, stumbling and slipping and sprawling on the cold surface as she did.

So Adam isn’t really sure why he can’t get himself to leave the wall. 

He takes a deep breath. He lets go of the wall. He takes a few steps. 

He makes it about three feet before he falls flat on his ass.

He grunts loudly as Ronan, in addition to the rest of the children on the rink probably, starts laughing obnoxiously.

“Need a hand, Parrish?” Ronan asks, grinning down at him. 

Adam refuses, but then reconsiders when he falls down a second time about five seconds later. 

He swallows down his pride and takes Ronan’s hand, pointedly ignoring Ronan’s smug smile. With Ronan holding his gloved hand and pulling him along as he glides steadily, it’s actually enjoyable.

One time Adam almost trips, but Ronan has his arm around his shoulder in an instant, holding him up effortlessly.

“I got you, Parrish,” Ronan murmurs without a trace of smugness this time, his breath on Adam’s hair, and Adam badly wants to kiss him. As Ronan takes his hand again, Adam looks around, noting the small amount of adults, none of whom seem to be looking their way. Adam presses a kiss Ronan’s cheek and watches with amusement as it turns even pinker. 

Ronan gives him a small, open smile, and Adam feels some unnamable, warm thing inside of him.

They’re too busy smiling at each other, however, to notice that Opal is about to crash into them, so they all go tumbling to icy floor. 

Opal lets out an annoyed _Kerah_ , while Adam bursts into surprised laughter. 

“Watch where you’re going,” Ronan snaps without heat.

“ _You_ watch where you’re going, instead of watching Adam,” Opal retorts.

“She has a point,” Adam says. “Same goes for the car. Maybe if you watched the road instead of staring at me while driving, we’d have less near-death experiences.” 

“Shut the hell up, Parrish."

Adam snorts and attempts to get up, but his effort only lands him on top of Ronan, his elbow accidentally jabbing Ronan in the stomach.

Ronan makes a pained noise, and Adam can’t help but laugh again. He looks down at Ronan, realizing how close their faces are. 

He gets lost in Ronan’s eyes for too long a moment, and Ronan says, his voice slightly strained, “You going to get off me or what?” 

“Don’t want to,” Adam breathes, leaning closer. 

“There are children here, Parrish,” Ronan says, voice low. 

“So?” Before Ronan can reply, Adam kisses him. It’s brief and chaste and soft, but it leaves them both undone anyways. 

When the three of them manage to finally stand up again, they make their way back to solid ground, decidedly done with skating for the day. Opal insists that she wants to build a snowman. 

“There’s no snow here, brat.” 

“Kerah _._ ” 

“You need snow to build a snowman.” 

“ _Kerah!”_  

“I can’t control the goddamn weather!”

“ _KER—“_

 _“_ Fine, Jesus! I’ll dream us some snow when we get back to the Barns, alright?” 

Opal grins triumphantly.

 

*

 

Three weeks into January, Ronan drives to D.C. with Opal. It’s for Matthew’s birthday, and Ronan hasn’t seen his brothers enough lately. After the events of the past few months, Adam knows Ronan feels the need to spend as much time with them as possible.

He plans to go for five days. Adam had offered to watch Opal while he’s gone, as had the Fox Way ladies, but Ronan didn’t want to leave her for that long. Besides, Matthew and Declan are fond of Opal, so there was no reason not to take her.

Adam tries not to be affected by their absence. It’s only five days, after all. 

Except, on Wednesday, the day Ronan is supposed to come back, Adam receives a text that says only, _staying four more days_. It’s the first time Ronan has contacted him in any way since he left. Adam had called him multiple times, even leaving a voicemail telling Ronan to wish Matthew a happy birthday from him, but of course Ronan did not answer. Adam tries not to be upset by that. It’s just how Ronan is. But somehow he thought it’d be _different_ for him, that Ronan would make an exception for him. Especially now that Adam finally _has_ a phone – a shitty prepaid thing that he bought a week ago. 

The fact that he won’t see Ronan for four more days is hard to swallow down. He’s already in a bad mood when he reaches Monmouth Manufacturing after work, and what Gansey tells him doesn’t make it any better. 

“Did Ronan tell you he’s staying in D.C. for a few more days?” 

“Yeah. Did he text you too?” Adam asks. 

“He told me when we talked this afternoon.” 

Adam frowns. “Talked? As in, on the phone?”

“No, in person, when he teleported here. Yes, Adam, on the phone.” 

“I… he actually picked up?”

Gansey furrows his brows, his thumb brushing over his bottom lip. “He didn’t call you? I’d assumed you’d spoken to him multiple times. I myself was baffled when he picked up twice and then called me again of his own free will.” 

Adam feels something bitter and jealous churn up in his gut. He pushes it down and asks, keeping his voice even, “Did he tell you why he was staying?” 

Gansey’s expression turns sad. “Niall and Aurora’s anniversary is in three days. Matthew asked him to stay and celebrate it, and well… he couldn’t exactly say no to that.”

“Oh,” Adam says in a small voice. 

He wonders if Ronan is okay. He wonders if he’s having nightmares. He wishes Ronan would answer his phone, just so he can hear his voice, just so he can make sure nothing is wrong.

Adam, for his part, tries to quell his less peaceful nights with the blanket Ronan gave him for Christmas. It definitely helps in his absence, but it doesn’t compare to Ronan’s warm presence beside him. 

Ronan finally comes back Sunday evening. When Adam sees the BMW pull up in the Monmouth parking lot the same time he arrives on his bike, his heart immediately starts beating faster.

Opal launches herself at him first, with the force of a girl five times her size, and Adam smiles as she clings to him, her head coming up to his stomach.

“Adam!” Opal shrieks. “ _Ego vos requireris._ ”

“I missed you too, Opal.”

“Ronan is an asshole,” Opal adds. 

Adam snorts out a laugh, shaking his head. He considers telling her to not use words like _asshole_ , but considering that she’s living with Ronan, Adam knows it’s futile.

“Watch your fucking language, brat.” 

Adam turns at Ronan’s voice, his breath catching when he sees the other boy leaning against the BMW, looking otherworldly and feral.

Nine days. Nine days since he’d heard Ronan’s voice, touched him, kissed him, but it felt like it had been nine months.

Adam is standing there, motionless, as Ronan walks up to him. When there is only a foot between them, Ronan eyes him and the corners of his mouth turn up.

“Parrish.”

“Lynch.” 

Adam can’t keep it in, anymore. He launches himself at Ronan’s lips, fingers grasping at his shirt, and Ronan’s hands snake around his waist, their bodies flush together. 

Ronan pulls away far too soon, his cheeks a pleasant shade of pink. “Come on, Parrish. Gansey’s waiting.”

Resentment rises up in Adam again, unbidden and fierce. He feels his annoyance at Ronan not answering his phone come back to him, and he wants to snap at Ronan about it, ask him why he ignored his calls and why he took Gansey’s. He feels ridiculous and pathetic. 

He buries his anger for the time being and follows Ronan up to the second floor of Monmouth.

“Dick,” Ronan calls out, when the main room is empty. 

Gansey then walks out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel, his skin still damp from the shower.

“Ronan. I apologize, I lost track of time.” 

Ronan raises his eyebrows. “Obviously.” 

Adam notices Ronan eyeing Gansey’s bare chest appreciatively, and another stab of envy explodes inside him. As Gansey goes into the Laundry-Kitchen-Bathroom again to get dressed, Adam closes his eyes and breathes in deep.

“Parrish, you alright?”

Adam opens his eyes at Ronan’s concerned question. “I’m fine, Lynch,” Adam grits out. 

Ronan clearly doesn’t believe him and opens his mouth to say something, then Gansey walks out and the moment passes. 

“So,” Gansey asks, dressed in a hideously bright polo shirt, “How was the rest of your trip?”

Ronan shrugs. “It was alright. Nothing much to tell.”

Adam hears the lie, and makes a note to ask about it later.

Gansey hesitates, then asks, “What did you do for the anniversary? I heard Matthew make you listen to Fly Me To The Moon?” 

Ronan’s smile is forced and sad. “Yeah. Kept playing it on fucking repeat.” 

“I remember when I came over one day and your parents were dancing to that song in the kitchen.”

“They fucking danced to it all the time. I got sick of it.” Ronan pauses. “Was that the day you and my dad got into a hour long conversation on Irish folklore?” Ronan’s expression is disdainful at the memory.

“Don’t say it like that. It was fascinating.” 

Ronan snorts. “Dad apparently thought so, too. He finally had someone to babble on and on about Ireland with. He loved you.” His voice cracks a little at the end, and then he clears his throat and changes the subject, complaining about Declan being an asshole. 

As Gansey and Ronan walked down memory lane, Adam felt the hot, white jealousy grow ever stronger. It reaches its peak when, after a while, Adam asks Ronan if he’s coming over to St. Agnes with him, and Ronan looks at him apologetically and says that he promised he’d help Gansey with a project.

Adam stares at him in disbelief. “ _You’re_ helping Gansey with _schoolwork?_ ”

Gansey sighs. “He doesn’t want to, believe me. But it’s that history research project. I have to translate some Gaelic texts as my sources and Ronan also has some of his dad’s old books that he’s lending me. And, er, it’s due tomorrow and I left it to the last minute.”

“He was too busy making out with Blue to do his work. And now I’m suffering for it,” Ronan supplies. 

Gansey turns red but doesn’t deny it. 

Adam clenches his jaw and avoids their gazes. “Okay, well. I should get going. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” 

He rushes away before anyone can speak, his eyes stinging and hands tightened into fists. 

He tries not to think about it. He tries to squash the ugly feelings rearing their heads, ones he had not felt in a long time, not like this. But he can’t.

He hasn’t seen or talked to Ronan in _nine days_ , and when he’s finally, _finally_ back, he chooses to spend time with Gansey instead.

Adam thought his constantly comparing himself to Gansey and feeling lesser than him was a thing of the past. He remembers the possessiveness and anger that filled him when Blue and Gansey would sit too close together, the worthlessness he’d felt next to Gansey all the time. He’d thought that those feelings had slowly faded away, leaving nothing but trust and fondness towards his friend, and sureness about the people who cared about him. Apparently, he was wrong. 

Adam has always been a jealous creature, and any of his friends spending time together without him would create some discomfort. He had never been bothered by Ronan and Gansey like _this,_ though, not in this specific way. Before, it was always about Gansey. Ronan had been jealous of Adam’s friendship with Gansey at the beginning, just like Adam was jealous of how close they were, thinking that someone like him could never be as important to Gansey as Ronan was. 

Now, though, Adam thinks about how Ronan had Gansey before he had anyone else. He thinks about how Ronan almost certainly had a crush on Gansey in the initial days of their friendship. He thinks about how Gansey knew a Ronan that Adam would never know.

Adam doesn’t like to put Ronan Lynch in boxes. There is no _before_ and _after_ , there is only _Ronan_ , and Adam doesn’t want him to be anything other than he is. But Adam can’t deny that there is a part of Ronan that he’ll never truly know, not the way Gansey does. 

 _He shows that side to you_ , he tells himself. _He’s vulnerable around you in a way that no one else gets to see_.

But those thoughts are drowned out by the memory of Gansey asking, _he didn’t call you?_ The memory of Ronan’s hungry eyes on Gansey’s chest. The memory of Blue saying, _it’s not gonna be you._ The memory of Gansey and Ronan reminiscing about old times, times when Ronan was happier than ever, when he was innocent and unmarked by the weight of grief. 

What a fool Adam was to think that he knew anything about Ronan Lynch.

 

*

 

He doesn’t see Ronan the next day, either, being too swamped with studying and working overtime at the factory. Ronan finally shows up at St. Agnes on Tuesday evening, just as Adam is coming back from work.

Adam freezes at the sight of Ronan leaning against his apartment door.

“Lynch.” 

Ronan smiles, and Adam’s heart flips. “Parrish. You hungry?”

“No,” Adam replies automatically. 

Ronan raises his eyebrows.

Adam sighs. “A little.”

“A lot,” Ronan translates.

As usual, Ronan knows Adam, but Adam doesn’t know Ronan after all.

Ronan grabs his hand as they make their way to the BMW, but it does little to make Adam feel better. He’s silent for most of the drive, and when Ronan asks him about it, he claims that he’s just tired from work.

They don’t go to Nino’s for once, but a small café nearby that Adam has never eaten at. Adam is visibly irate and moody as Ronan attempts to make conversation. 

“Parrish, what the hell is going on with you?”

“Nothing. ‘M tired,” Adam mutters.

“Bullshit.” 

Adam gets up. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

He hears Ronan’s exasperated sigh but the other boy doesn’t make an attempt to stop him.

Adam stares at himself in the empty bathroom mirror, gripping the edge of the sink. He closes his eyes and counts to ten. He’s being an irrational asshole and he knows it. He missed Ronan so much and now that he’s actually here, Adam is being sulky and difficult for no reason. He gets himself together and goes back outside. 

When he exits the bathroom, though, he’s hit with the sight of a guy about their age walking up to Ronan. Adam can immediately see the _Aglionby_ on him, with his crisp shirt and dark hair and million-dollar smile.

As Adam watches from afar, not close enough to hear what they’re saying, Ronan’s face twists in surprise and recognition.

The guy flashes a grin at Ronan and shoves his hands into his pockets. Adam dislikes him instantly, especially when he notices him very unsubtly checking Ronan out.

They talk for a few minutes – a longer conversation than Ronan holds with most people - and Adam is taken aback by how friendly Ronan’s countenance is. He is usually distant or hostile even to acquaintances he doesn’t have a problem with.

Ronan smiles widely for a moment, and Adam frowns when he sees that it’s not his usual, menacing smirk. It’s not the unshielded smile he uses with Adam or Matthew, but it’s more open than he gives most people he interacts with.

The guy laughs at something Ronan says and writes something on a piece of paper before handing it to Ronan. He pats Ronan on the shoulder, leaving his hand there for longer than necessary, and then walks away and out the door. Adam watches incredulously as Ronan pockets the piece of paper. 

Something clenches inside Adam and he has to go back to the bathroom for a few moments to keep it all from bursting out. 

When Adam finally sits back at their table, Ronan says, “Took you long enough. Did you fucking drown in there?”

Adam rips his tissue paper into several pieces and doesn’t look at Ronan. He waits for Ronan to mention whomever that man was, but Ronan does not.

Instead, Ronan asks, “You going to tell me what’s going on, finally?” 

Adam stays silent. 

“Parrish.” 

“What?” Adam snaps.

Ronan is angry now, too. “What is your problem? We’ve barely seen each other in ten fucking days and you’re being a dick for no reason.”

Adam lets out a cruel laugh. “Oh, _now_ you care that we haven’t seen each other for days?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Adam exhales through his teeth and stands up. “Nothing. I’m getting out of here.”

Ronan wordlessly follows Adam out into the street, the early February chill making them both shiver. “Where are you going?” 

“I’m walking.”

“Get in the car, Parrish. You’re being ridiculous.” 

Adam feels himself shaking with anger, but when he speaks, his voice comes out rough and broken. “No.”

Ronan stills. “Adam.”

Adam swallows and turns around. Ronan searches his face, but Adam keeps his expression neutral.

Ronan sighs tiredly, dragging a hand over his face. “Just… come on. Let’s not do this here.”

Adam complies, and the ride back to St. Agnes is silent. Neither of them speak until they’re both sitting on Adam’s mattress, as far from each other as the tiny mattress allows.

“Parrish—“ Ronan starts. 

“So who was that guy?” Adam blurts out, and then immediately regrets it.

“I—what?”

“That… that guy you were talking to.” 

Adam feels Ronan’s bewildered gaze on him. “I thought you were in the bathroom.” 

“So what, you were planning on hiding it from me?” 

“What? No, of course not.”

“You didn’t mention it when I came back.” 

“Um, yeah, because I didn’t think it was that important, Parrish.”

“You know he was flirting with you, right?” 

Ronan stares at Adam like he has two heads, and then he bursts into sharp laughter. Adam can feel his ears and cheeks heating up.

“Don’t _laugh_ , asshole,” Adam spits. “He gave you his number!”

Adam can still hear the amusement in his voice when Ronan says, “That’s what this is about? You’re _jealous_?” 

Adam flushes deeper. “Shut up, Lynch.” 

“If you must know, Parrish, that was Jack Davison. He was a close friend of Declan’s before he left for college. His mom is a vet so she’s the one who took care of all our animals when they got sick. He gave me _her_ number once he found out that I was running the farm.”

Adam can hear how weak and petulant he sounds, but he can’t stop himself. “He checked you out. You—you _smiled_ at him.” 

“Christ. Am I not allowed to smile at people now?” 

Adam makes a frustrated noise. “ _No_ , that’s not—you just usually _don’t_ and—you know what, nevermind. It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Okay, fine. Then why don’t we talk about what was bothering you before? You’ve been in a pissy mood even before I talked to Davison.” 

“It’s not important.” 

Ronan levels him with a look. “Right. Okay. I don’t know what your problem is, Parrish, but I had more fun translating ancient texts with Gansey.” 

That was evidently the wrong thing to say. The rage and jealousy steadily building in Adam’s gut for days suddenly boils over.

“Great,” Adam snaps. “Go kiss _him_ then. Clearly that’s what you want.”

Ronan’s face is even more confused than before. “ _What?_ ”

“I called you. I called you almost every day and you didn’t pick up. You called Gansey, though,” Adam says bitterly. “You hadn’t talked to me in days and when you come back you’d rather do _schoolwork_ with Gansey than—“ He breaks off, closing his eyes and inhaling sharply, willing himself to stop being so pathetic.

When he opens his eyes again, Ronan’s expression is complicated, filled with too much at once for Adam to pick it apart. “Adam. Tell me you are not fucking jealous of _Gansey_.”

Adam slides down so that he’s lying on his back. After a moment Ronan lies down beside him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Adam’s voice is soft and defeated now. “He’s _Gansey_. You have something with him that I can’t compete with. He knows you better than anyone.“

“ _You_ know me better than anyone, Adam.”

“I didn’t know that you stayed back for your parents’ anniversary,” Adam retorts. “I didn’t know that they danced to Fly Me To The Moon.” 

“Adam—“ Ronan starts, but breaks off and kisses Adam instead. It’s chaste and sweet and Adam melts into it, his hands coming up to cup Ronan’s face. Muscle memory. 

When Ronan pulls back, he’s looking at Adam with such intensity that Adam almost wants to close his eyes again. 

“I don’t even have Cabeswater anymore,” Adam says miserably. “Gansey’s always been magic. And now Cabeswater is a part of him. Just like it’s a part of you.” 

Ronan forehead creases with the concerned way he’s looking at Adam. “I’ll say it as many times as I have to for you to believe me. You’re the magician, with or without Cabeswater. _You’re_ magic, Adam. Everything about you. Every goddamn inch of you.”

Adam stares up at him, his throat too thick to speak. He lifts himself up a little to let Ronan gently take off his t-shirt, kissing Adam’s neck as he does so.

“You’re magic. All of you,” Ronan murmurs into the hollow of his throat, nuzzling the skin there. Adam’s breaths are ragged and wet. He kisses the corner of Adam’s mouth. “Here.” A kiss to Adam’s jaw. “Here.” His shoulder. “Here.” Adam gasps as Ronan’s teeth scrape his sternum, as his tongue licks down his chest, as he mouths over the bulge through his jeans. _Here, here, here_.

“Ronan,” Adam rasps. “C’mere.”

Ronan travels up his body and Adam grabs his head and kisses him deeply, emotions spilling through the way his lips move against Ronan’s.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you,” Ronan mumbles against his mouth. “Trust me, I wanted to. I would’ve much rather talked to you than Gansey.”

“Then why didn’t you?” 

Ronan pulls back and swallows. “Because you would’ve seen right through me.”

“What do you mean?” 

Ronan sighs. “I… the past ten days were… not great.” 

Adam feels his stomach drop. “Nightmares?” 

“Yeah,” Ronan says, voice hoarse. “Every night. I was—I was barely keeping it together. I kept thinking—remembering—everything Mom and Dad used to do for Matthew’s birthday, and then their anniversary. And Matthew, he wanted to reenact it, act like they were still fucking here and I couldn’t say no to him. And if I’d called you… you would’ve been able to tell. That’s why I agreed to help Gansey last night, too. As if I’d ever pick helping him with boring school shit over being with you, Parrish. I just—the work kept me up all night. I didn’t want to dream.” 

Adam cups Ronan’s cheek. “Why didn’t you want me to know?”

“I didn’t want you to worry. And… if I started talking about it, I wouldn’t be able to keep myself together. I would’ve fucking fallen apart and I couldn’t afford to do that, not with Matthew. I thought I could just make it go away.” 

“I’m always going to worry, asshole.” Adam bites his lip. “How are you doing now?”

Ronan smiles tiredly. “A little better, now that you’re here.”

Adam feels warm. “You can tell me about it, you know, if you want.”

“I know. But I’d rather just… put it out of my mind.”

“Okay,” Adam says simply. 

Ronan lies down beside him again, and Adam presses his face into his side.

“I missed you,” Adam whispers, “Especially at night, when I couldn’t sleep, I kept thinking… I just wanted you here.”

“Yeah? Did jerking off make you feel better?”

Adam swats at his chest, and Ronan cackles. “Asshole.”

“Dickhead,” Ronan retorts. 

“Prick.”

“Bastard.” 

“ _Gansey_.” 

“Take that back,” Ronan demands. “You took it too far, Parrish.” 

Adam laughs. “Okay, okay, sorry, _Declan_.” 

“That’s it. I think it’s over between us.” 

“Sure.” 

They lie there in comfortable silence until Ronan says, voice quiet and low, “I missed you, too. So much.”

Adam smiles slowly. “Yeah?”

Ronan scoffs, his ears pink. “Fucking obviously. I can’t believe I even have to say it.”

“Sorry,” Adam manages. “You shouldn’t feel like—you don’t have to say it—“

Ronan lifts his head to look down at him. “Jesus, Parrish, that’s not what… I don’t mind saying it, alright? I just meant that you should know it already, dumbass.”

Adam exhales shakily. “I know,” he mumbles. “It’s just… I forget, sometimes.”

Ronan kisses his cheekbone, the corner of his mouth. “I’ll remind you as often as you need me to.” He hesitates. “You know it doesn’t matter, right?”

“What?”

“That Gansey knew me before. You still know me better than anyone else ever could, Adam.” 

Adam swallows. “You said… your dad loved Gansey. Do you think he would have liked me?” Normally, Adam would not care what a man like Niall Lynch would have thought of him. But he knows that Ronan cares.

Ronan furrows his brows and says fiercely, “Who the fuck wouldn’t like you? And even if he somehow didn’t, it wouldn’t have made a difference. _I_ like you.” Ronan takes Adam’s hand and brings his knuckles to his mouth. Adam’s breath catches. He’ll never get tired of Ronan saying that.

Ronan sloppily plants kisses along his neck, tender and lazy. “Anyone who doesn’t think you’re fucking amazing is an idiot,” Ronan murmurs against his collarbone. 

Adam shudders, clutching Ronan’s head desperately as he kisses him. He closes his eyes, feeling that utter quiet inside him. If Cabeswater was still here, he thinks he could have scryed, just like this. He feels filled with light.

Ronan kisses every inch of him, rubbing his cheek against Adam’s stomach, fingers skimming Adam’s sides. Adam wonders how he survived without this for ten days. He wonders how he’ll ever survive without this for even a moment. 

The feeling is shattered when Ronan starts laughing lightly against his ribs. 

Adam leans up on his elbows. “What?” 

Ronan looks up at him, grinning. “I can’t believe you were jealous of _Gansey_.”

Adam throws a pillow at his head, which Ronan smoothly dodges.

“I mean, seriously. He wears aquamarine polo shirts. What kind of man do you think I am?”

Adam glowers at him. “Oh, don’t give me that bullshit. You used to have a crush on him, don’t deny it."

“You have no proof,” Ronan counters, having the decency to look a little embarrassed. “And if we’re going there, don’t act like _you_ didn’t have a crush on him, either.” 

Adam is rendered speechless for a moment. Ronan raises his eyebrows, and Adam flushes. “That wasn’t—I mean—“

“Don’t tell Sargent. She might get territorial.”

Adam groans and drags his hands down his face. “I hate you.” 

“You’re the one who brought it up, man. And I’m fairly certain that your crush is more recent than mine.”

“I wasn’t the one checking him out when he came out in a towel,” Adam says, looking at Ronan meaningfully. 

“Oh, fuck you. As if you aren’t checking out the maggot’s legs when she wears those monstrosities that she calls dresses.”

“Yeah, but I much prefer your legs,” Adam drawls, dragging his fingers up Ronan’s thighs purposefully.

“Well, I definitely prefer your naked chest to Dick’s,” Ronan says, voice low as he moves downwards and presses his lips to Adam’s breastbone. “As well as all your other body parts,” Ronan adds, smirking.

“Oh, so you’ve had access to all of Gansey’s body parts, have you?”

“I _did_ live with him for two years, you know. And I can promise you, you’re way hotter, Parrish. Don’t know what Sargent was thinking. Although, I have to say, you both have the sad inability to grow chest hair.” 

“Go find that Jack guy, then,” Adam retorts. “He’ll surely have enough chest hair to make up for both of us.” 

Ronan grins. “Still jealous, Parrish?” 

“Fuck off.”

Ronan laughs lightly and kisses the sensitive spot behind Adam’s ear, making his breath hitch. “Trust me, Adam,” Ronan whispers, his breath hot on Adam’s cheek. “You have no reason to be jealous of anyone.”

Adam suddenly feels very awake, and he flips Ronan over so that Ronan is under him, looking up at him with awe and lust.

“Good,” Adam growls, and then moves down Ronan’s body, intending to fully make up for the past ten days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the characterization wasn't too off; they are getting better at communication but it's one step forwards, five steps back with them tbh. And sometimes they are just petty jealous teenage boys. Next chapter unfortunately won't be up for a while because school has started back up (and if it's posted soon then that means I'm being irresponsible).


	13. valentine's day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan angrily bangs open the door and removes his tank. Adam freezes in the doorway at the sight, feeling acid in his veins. The wound runs from Ronan’s left shoulder down to his right hipbone. It doesn’t look too deep, but there’s still a lot of blood, and Adam feels dizzy. When he looks closer, he sees smaller wounds on his upper arms, as well as bruises on his chest, suspiciously close to his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is done sooner than I thought it would be, because I am not being responsible at all. Some warnings: Ronan's feelings of grief and guilt and self hatred reappear. That angsty scene in the middle feels sort of out of place and probably should've been put somewhere earlier, but, I didn't think to include it before. I felt it had to be done, though, because Ronan - as well as anyone around him - always being susceptible to being hurt by his dreams is important to address. I don't pay too close attention to the semantics of dreaming (or like, magic and plot stuff in general lmao) so I'm not sure what the exact conditions would have to be for Ronan to injure himself from a dream and also to actually bring a night horror out, or how often that would realistically happen post TRK, but hopefully it makes sense? Idk just go with it.

When Adam arrives at Monmouth on a late Sunday afternoon, tired from his early morning shift, Ronan and Henry are fighting while Gansey looks on in exasperation. 

“Adam, thank god,” Gansey says from his place on the floor beside his model of Henrietta. “Please save me.”

“’M too tired to save anyone,” Adam sighs, collapsing next to Ronan on the couch. 

“Just because you don’t understand the importance of politics—“

Ronan barks out a sharp laugh. “ _Politics?_ Christ, Cheng, it’s fucking student government.”

“Just because you hate Aglionby doesn’t mean everyone else does! Some of us actually want to make the school a better place.”

“Impossible. That shithole is going to be a shithole until the end of time. You can protest all you want, it won’t make a difference.”

“Not with _that_ attitude, no.” 

Ronan is about to snarl something back but Adam puts his hand over his mouth.

“Shut up, Lynch. I have a headache.”

Ronan glares at him, but Adam just presses his palm harder into Ronan’s skin. 

“Thank you, Parrish, I knew you were my favorite for a reason,” Henry chirps.

Ronan is still glaring at Adam, but then his eyes soften and he kisses Adam’s palm gently. Adam can feel his ears turn pink, and he snatches his hand away. Ronan is still looking at him.

Gansey and Henry are staring at the boys with matching expressions. “Did we miss something?” Gansey asks, amused.

“Nothing, Dick,” Ronan barks, then turns to Adam. “I can’t believe you’re siding with Cheng.”

“I’m not siding with anyone,” Adam says, exasperated. “I just can’t deal with your bickering right now.” 

Ronan gives him a concerned look. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night, and I had an early shift.” Adam lets out another weary sighs and leans his head on Ronan’s shoulder, and Ronan puts his arm around Adam. 

“Okay, okay, change of topic,” Gansey says. “What are you two doing this Friday? I’ve been trying to plan something for Blue but I’m truly at a loss.” 

“Uh, nothing? Just the usual,” Adam replies, confused.

“So you’re not doing anything for Valentine’s Day?”

Adam blinks. “Oh. I forgot that was happening.” His expression turns disdainful. “You’re actually celebrating?”

“Of course. The first Valentine’s Day as a couple is vital.”

Ronan snorts. “Seriously? Valentine’s Day is a fucking joke. Which is why I’m not surprised you’re into it, Gansey.”

“No need to be rude,” Gansey huffs. “And you of all people should be into the holiday. I mean, it did originate as a feast honoring a saint.”

“I’m pretty sure the original intention wasn’t to make it a superficial shitshow that requires couples to act like they actually care about each other for a day by buying cliché ass meaningless gifts.” 

“It doesn’t necessarily mean gifts. It’s just a day to show your appreciation for your significant other, however that may be,” Gansey points out, sounding very much like a middle aged man. 

Ronan smirks and says in a suggestive tone, “Well, I’m going to show my appreciation for Parrish in a more _intimate_ way.” 

Adam rolls his eyes, and Gansey exclaims, “Jesus Christ, Ronan. Must you make everything sexual?”

Ronan opens his mouth, likely to make yet another sexual comment, but at that moment Blue barges into Monmouth, panting like she’d just ran a marathon. 

“Jane,” Gansey says cheerfully at the same time Henry says, “Wendybird.” 

Blue smiles at the boys and sits down next to Gansey on the floor. 

“Did you run here all the way from Fox Way?” Adam asks, taking in her disheveled state.

“No. One of the dogs I was walking somehow got out of his leash and I had to chase him for fifteen minutes. I just dropped them all off on the way before I came here.” 

“How many of those dogs are taller than you?” Ronan inquires.

Blue flips him off.

“I can’t believe you get to walk a bunch of dogs as a job,” Adam says, wistful. “That sounds amazing.”

Blue shrugs. “It is pretty nice, when I don’t have to chase a particularly unruly one halfway across Henrietta. You can join me sometime, if you want. The dogs are adorable.” 

Adam brightens at that. He thinks of the mutt back at the trailer park that used to follow him around everywhere. “Sure, I’d love to.” 

“So, Blue,” Henry starts. “What do _you_ think of Valentine’s Day?” 

“Careful, you’re ruining Old Man Dick’s big plans here,” Ronan sneers. 

Gansey winces. “Technically I haven’t made any plans as of yet.”

Blue raises her eyebrows at Gansey. “Are we doing something for Valentine’s Day?”

Gansey looks a little anxious. “Only if you want to, Jane.” 

Blue stares at him for a long moment and then shrugs. “Sure.” 

Ronan gapes at her. “I can’t believe you, Sargent. Where’s your rant about how Valentine’s Day is sexist capitalist bullshit?” 

“Oh, it’s definitely sexist capitalist bullshit,” Blue agrees. “That doesn’t mean I won’t use the opportunity to do something nice with my boyfriend.” She turns a pointed look at Gansey. “As long as it’s nothing expensive.”

Gansey’s face falls. “Then what are we supposed to do?”

Blue rolls her eyes. “Obviously nothing, since romance isn’t possible unless you’re rich. Figure it out, Gansey.” 

Ronan shakes his head. “Traitors everywhere.” 

Blue narrows her eyes at Adam and Ronan. “I can’t believe you two aren’t celebrating Valentine’s Day.” 

Ronan makes a disdainful noise and Adam raises his eyebrows at Blue. “Why the fuck would you think that we’d do anything for this scam of a holiday, maggot?”

“Because, as I’ve pointed out multiple times already, you two are like the sappiest lovebirds I’ve ever met. And now you have an actual excuse to do something disgustingly romantic.” 

Adam and Ronan both flush and glare at Blue. Adam lifts his head from Ronan’s shoulder and moves away a little, feeling self-conscious. 

“We are _not_ ,” Adam mutters, scratching his neck, while Ronan snarls in indignation, “Shut the fuck up, Sargent.”

“Oh please,” Henry chimes in. “You both know it’s true. If you were still at Aglionby, Ronan, you could have sent Adam one of the wonderful Valentine’s Day gift options that student government has organized.”

He then takes a piece of paper out of his backpack and tosses it at Ronan. Ronan reads the flyer with contempt in his voice.

“Give your sweetheart a Valentine! With a variety of romantic options such as roses, chocolate boxes, and personalized jewelry, your significant other will swoon. Sign up now and get a 10% discount.”

Ronan scoffs and throws it back to Henry. “Lucky for me, Cheng, I don’t have a _sweetheart_.” 

Henry grins. “No? Adam isn’t your sweetheart? What about your _darling_ or your _babe_?” 

Adam practically recoils from Henry’s words. “If you ever call me any of those words, we’re breaking up,” Adam tells Ronan, shuddering in exaggerated horror. 

“I wouldn’t even blame you,” Ronan replies. 

Adam turns back to Henry. “And as if Lynch could ever make me _swoon_.”

Ronan elbows him lightly and Adam swats at his chest in retaliation. “Is that a challenge, Parrish?”

“No, it’s a fact,” Adam retorts. 

“You two are adorable,” Henry says drily. “You know, most boys at Aglionby are doing something drastic this year. I hear Carruthers has a romantic getaway at some fancy resort planned for his boyfriend.”

“Tad has a boyfriend?” Adam asks, surprised.

“Why do you care, Parrish?” Ronan snaps, scowling. 

Adam turns an amused look on Ronan. “Seriously, Ronan? You’re still upset about that?” 

“About what?” Gansey asks, intrigued.

“Tad asked me out.”

“He—what? You never told me this. When?” 

“Back in November. That’s how everyone in school found out about Ronan and me. Ronan was typically jealous as shit and terrified the poor guy.”

“I wasn’t _jealous_ ,” Ronan insists, a slight flush on his cheeks.

“Sure, Lynch.” 

“You better watch out, Ronan,” Henry says, grinning. “You don’t want Tad to steal your honey with his fancy romantic gestures, do you?” 

“Thought you said he has a boyfriend,” Ronan says.

“He does. But they’ve only been together for about a week, and word is that Carruthers still has a thing for Parrish.”

Ronan rolls his eyes. “Sure.” 

But then Ronan catches Adam’s ears turning pink and narrows his eyes at him.

“It’s not important,” Adam tries. 

Ronan continues staring. 

Adam sighs. “He’s just… very clingy. He hasn’t asked me out again or anything, he’s not stupid enough to try that, but he flutters around me all the time and tries to make conversation. It’s really annoying. I’ve been trying to get him to leave me alone for months but he can’t take a hint.” 

Ronan’s glares at the ground. “Maybe you’re not being obvious enough with your hints. I can fix that for you.” 

“Please. He’s harmless.” 

“Is he?” Henry asks, clearly enjoying this. “I heard he was thinking about sending Adam roses before he hooked up with Garrett.”   

Adam groans in exasperation. “Don’t encourage him, Henry.” 

“Have any of you ever actually celebrated it?” Blue asks, curious. “My curse always prevented me from having an actual valentine.”

Gansey and Henry shake their heads.

Adam’s eyes dart to Ronan and away. “Oh, uh, yeah. I have, once.”

Ronan’s eyebrows go up to his hairline. “With who?”

“Why does it matter?” 

“It doesn’t. Just curious,” Ronan says, trying for nonchalance.

Adam snorts. “Right. Well, I was fifteen. It was when I was dating Natasha… you met her at the New Years party. It wasn’t anythin’ special, we just went on a date and I bought her one of those cheesy stuffed animals.” 

Ronan’s expression is carefully neutral, and Adam rolls his eyes at him and takes his hand, pressing their bodies together from wrists to elbows to shoulders.

“Now you have Carruthers _and_ Natasha to compete with, Lynch,” Henry says.

“You know,” Gansey interjects, “I don’t know why it’s Ronan who has to plan something romantic. Last I checked, Adam was the one who sent Ronan flowers before their first date.” 

Adam turns red at the reminder, and Ronan smirks. “Yeah, Parrish, get me another bouquet. Maybe this time Opal won’t eat them.”

“I hate all of you,” Adam declares. 

Later, when Ronan drops Adam at St. Agnes, he asks him, only half joking, “So what was the consensus? Are we doing anything for the big day?” 

Adam huffs. “Nah. I was planning on coming over to the Barns after school Friday either way. We’ll just hang out.” 

“Thank fuck.”

 

*

 

On Monday, Ronan wakes up to fifty blue roses spread out over his bed. They glow brightly, the colors on the petals swirling as if the rose is turning in circles. Ronan realizes after a second that they’re the exact shade of Adam’s eyes. 

On Tuesday, Ronan wakes up to a box of chocolates shaped like a heart. Inside are all the chocolates Ronan knows that Adam loves – from Twix and Kit Kat to more luxurious ones he’s devoured at the Barns like Lindt and Toblerone. The box never runs out.

On Wednesday, Ronan wakes up to a medium sized boombox the color of Cabeswater’s most luscious trees, which only plays songs that Ronan hates, but that he knows are some of Adam’s favorites.

On Thursday, Ronan wakes up to a large teddy bear holding a heart that says _unguibus et rostro_.

On Friday, Ronan wakes up to five mini Valentine’s Day cards, each with photos of Adam and him together taken simply from Ronan’s memory, and romantic Latin phrases on the bottom. _Aere perennius_. _Ab imo pectore. In perpetuum et unum diem_. _Ad astra per aspera._ Thankfully, none of them directly mention the word _love_ , though Ronan thinks _forever and a day_ is possibly more embarrassing. 

Ronan then takes the cards and stuffs them into one of the large cupboards in his parents’ room that he almost never enters and neither does Adam. It is near bursting open with all the things already hidden inside – the roses, the chocolates, the boombox, the teddy bear – but Ronan bolts it shut tightly and then lets out an exhausted breath.

_Fuck._

 

*

 

Adam reaches the Barns around dinnertime on Friday, tired from school and work, still wearing his coveralls and smelling like gasoline. He’s looking forward to a weekend with Ronan, especially since he has less homework than usual. He also hasn’t seen Ronan much this week, and when he has, Ronan was acting slightly distant and awkward.

When he knocks on the door of the Barns, he expects to hear the clattering of hooves and a _Kerah,_ as Opal is always the first one to the door when Adam comes over. Instead, Ronan opens the door, looking sharp and handsome in a black shirt and dark jeans. He looks nicer than he would on a normal weekday spent working at the Barns, and Adam suddenly feels dirty in his greased coveralls and sweat-covered skin. 

Ronan just eyes him hungrily, though, his eyes darkening. “Parrish.” 

“Lynch,” Adam replies, entering the house. 

“Hope you’re hungry, because dinner’s ready,” Ronan says as they reach the kitchen, all-casual, although there is something decidedly not casual about the set up in front of Adam.

On the dining table there is an assortment of various heavenly looking dishes – baked lasagna, garlic bread, a large pie of thin crust pizza. The candles in the center have always been there, but Adam has never seen them actually lit until now.

Adam clears his throat. “I was hoping to shower first, but I guess if everything’s already set up I’ll wait.” He looks around the kitchen. “Where’s Opal?”

“I sent the brat to Fox Way for the night,” Ronan answers.

Adam raises his eyebrows. “I thought you said we weren’t doing anything for Valentine’s Day.” 

Ronan scowls. “It’s just dinner, Parrish. I’ve cooked dinner before.”

It’s true, he had, but only a few times, and always for an occasion. Ronan was an excellent cook, but most of the time he didn’t go through the effort of making anything elaborate. They either ordered food or Ronan heated up something frozen from the fridge.

Ronan had also only made lasagna once before, and Adam had declared it the best thing he’d ever tasted in his life.

“Uh huh,” Adam replies, knowingly. 

Ronan ignores him and gently nudges Adam towards the table. As they sit down, Ronan tries to maintain his bravado by muttering, “You can serve yourself, Parrish. I’m not your goddamn maid.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t going to ask you to serve me, but thanks for the reminder." 

“Any time.”

Ronan watches closely as Adam takes the first bite of the food. Adam tries to keep his expression neutral, but he can’t help it. The moment the food hits his tongue, his face goes slack in bliss.

Ronan is grinning. “Good?” 

“Fuck you.”

Ronan laughs. “You know, most people say _thank you_.” 

“Well, as you know, I’m not most people.” 

“No, that you aren’t,” Ronan says, voice going soft.

Adam smiles. “Hey, can every day be Valentine’s Day? I wouldn’t mind if you cooked me romantic dinners like this more often.” 

Ronan glares at him. “This isn’t a fucking romantic dinner, Parrish. It’s just dinner. That’s it.”

“Oh, shut up and just admit that you did something nice and romantic for me.” 

“Never.”

“You’re impossible,” Adam says, shaking his head in both exasperation and fondness. 

“Eat your fucking pasta.” 

Adam eats his pasta.

Afterwards, they sprawl together on the couch for a while until Adam says that he needs to shower. 

“You smell fine,” Ronan murmurs, kissing Adam’s neck from where he’s laying on top of him.

“I’m a little disturbed that you’re turned on by me smelling like gasoline and sweat after hours of work.”

In response, Ronan sniffs his throat exaggeratedly and then licks a line down from his Adam’s apple to his collarbone.

“Oh my god.” Adam pushes Ronan away, laughing. “You’re gross.” 

Ronan nips at Adam’s collarbone. “ _You’re_ gross.” 

“Clever,” Adam says wryly. “Move off of me Lynch, seriously. I’m going to shower.” 

“Fine,” Ronan grumbles, looking incredibly put out by Adam’s need for good hygiene. 

Adam just rolls his eyes and then goes up to Ronan’s room to shower. He doesn’t take long, wanting to get back to Ronan as soon as possible. He didn’t bring a change of clothes, so he wears one of Ronan’s black muscle tees and his gray sweatpants. As he leaves Ronan’s room and starts to make his way back down, he pauses at the soft sound of music coming from somewhere. Upon further inspection, it seems to be coming from Niall and Aurora’s room. It’s also one of his favorite songs, which makes it even more bizarre. 

He hesitates in the doorway, not having been inside this room many times. He can tell the music is coming from a cabinet on the far side of the room. It’s closed tightly but not locked, and it only takes a few hard yanks to get it open.

Objects come tumbling out.

When Adam finally goes back down, his hands behind his back, Ronan looks annoyed, still sitting on the couch. “What took you so long, Parrish? Did you drown in there?” 

Adam sits down next to him and hands Ronan a single glowing rose. 

Ronan immediately freezes, his ears and neck turning bright red. He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, then starts aggressively gnawing at leather, glaring at his lap. 

“Your Latin grammar is still terrible,” Adam says, voice neutral. “Even while using well known phrases. That’s just sad, Lynch.” 

Ronan snorts. “Fuck off, Parrish.” He sighs and runs a nervous hand over his buzzed head. “I didn’t mean to dream all that stuff, alright? Fucking Valentine’s Day. Gansey and Cheng’s bullshit apparently infiltrated my subconscious.” 

“I’m pretty sure you were pretty conscious when you prepared a romantic candlelight dinner for two.”

“Asshole.” 

Adam grins, feeling weightless. “Does your subconscious know that it’s not the 80s? I can’t believe you dreamed me a _boombox_. Are you going to show up under my apartment window with it blasting ‘In Your Eyes’?”

“No, it’ll be blasting the Murder Squash Song, obviously.”

“I’ve noticed that it only plays songs I like, actually, so I don’t think it will.”

Ronan grunts, not bothering to deny it.

“I think the teddy bear is my favorite,” Adam says, his fingers fidgeting with the blue petals. “I only had one stuffed animal when I was a kid, a brown bear, but I’d sleep with it every night. Until one day my dad snatched it from my hands and ripped it apart. Guess I finally found a replacement.” 

Ronan doesn’t say anything, and he still looks pretty mortified. 

“So were you planning on just hiding those things from me forever?”

Ronan shrugs. “Probably. I would’ve burned them in the backyard. Get rid of the evidence.”

“Evidence of the fact that you’re a gigantic sap, you mean? There wouldn’t be a point. I already knew that.”

“You’re such a dick.” 

“You like it, apparently, otherwise you wouldn’t have dreamt me roses and a box of chocolates and valentines with romantic Latin phrases and—“ 

Ronan shuts him up with a kiss, and Adam kisses him back enthusiastically.

Ronan mutters, “You tell anyone, Parrish, and I swear—“

“I won’t,” Adam assures him, his lips trailing over Ronan’s jaw. His breath is hot in Ronan’s ear when whispers, “This is just for us.” 

Ronan lets out an uneven breath. “What do you think, then? Better than your date with Natalia? Definitely beats whatever shitshow Tad organized, right?”

Adam pulls back and punches Ronan’s shoulder. “Seriously, Ronan?”

“What? I’m just saying.” 

Adam pretends to think. “Hmm, I don’t know. This is nice and everything, but it’s no romantic getaway. I might have to reconsider Tad’s prospects.”

“ _Asshole_.” 

“What?” Adam asks innocently. “He’s objectively cute. He’s funny. I think we might be soulmates.” 

“Shut up,” Ronan growls, starting to chart his neck, and Adam laughs breathlessly as Ronan pushes him down so he’s laying flat on his back.

“Hey, Ronan?” Adam says, as Ronan lifts up his t-shirt to kiss along his stomach. 

“Mm?” 

“I may be rethinking my former opinion about your ability to make me swoon.”

Ronan looks up, smiling devilishly and looking far too pleased. “Is that right?”

Adam huffs. “Don’t let it get to your head.” He pauses, brows furrowing. “I feel bad, though. I didn’t get you anything.” 

“Christ, Adam, you know that doesn’t matter.”

Adam bites his lip. “I know, but—I just—“ 

“ _Adam_.” Ronan moves up his body and kisses him, soft and tender. Adam can feel his long lashes flutter against his cheek. “You’re here. That’s enough.” 

Adam wants to say something snarky, something dismissive, but low timbre of Ronan’s voice renders him speechless. Because there is such earnestness in Ronan’s words, as if Adam is giving him a gift just by being there, just by being Adam.

Adam swallows, and says, voice thick, “Yeah. Definitely swooning.” 

Ronan grins against his mouth and then Adam’s smiling into the kiss too.

They kiss lazily for a little while longer, until Adam’s fingers try to unbutton Ronan’s jeans. 

Ronan breaks away and looks at Adam with amusement. “What are you doing?” 

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Parrish, you’re literally about to pass out.”

“I am _not_.” 

“You’ve yawned while we were making out like three times already. You’re exhausted.”

“I’m awake enough for this,” Adam insists, even as his eyelids feel heavier by the second. 

“Don’t be a dumbass. You need to sleep.” 

“I can’t believe you’re turning me down right now,” Adam retorts, petulant.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you can get me off tomorrow morning when you’ve had at least eight hours of sleep.”

Adam makes an irritated sound but gives in. Ronan gets up and then pulls Adam to his feet, holding him by the waist as they walk up the stairs. 

“I’m not so tired that I can’t walk upstairs without leaning on you, you know,” Adam says, annoyed. 

“Shut up, Parrish.” 

When they’re both in bed, Adam mumbles sleepily, “Ronan?” 

“Yeah?” Ronan’s arm is around Adam, holding him close. 

His accent is thick as he slurs, “Don’t throw away any of that stuff. I want to keep all of it.” 

Ronan smiles against the back of his neck. “Okay, Adam.”

When Adam wakes up the next morning, Ronan is still asleep, for once, lying on his stomach with his head turned towards Adam. The full expanse of his tattoo is on display, and though Adam has seen it many times, it always manages to take his breath away. It is especially beautiful in the early morning sunlight, and Adam wants to trace every inch of it with his tongue. So he does. 

He climbs on top of Ronan, straddling his back, and presses his lips to the nape of his neck. Ronan stirs a little but doesn’t wake up. Adam kisses a line across his shoulder blades. Ronan’s eyes flutter open and he blinks a few times before he turns his head and registers Adam on top of him. He raises his eyebrows, amused, as Adam keeps kissing along his shoulder. 

“Mornin,” Adam murmurs into his skin.

Ronan smiles lazily. “Good morning to you too, Parrish.” 

Adam adds his tongue into the mix, his hands wrapping around Ronan’s waist and settling below his navel, and Ronan laughs into the pillow, which then turns into a gasp.

“God, Adam.” 

Adam continues kissing and licking, going lower and lower, until he reaches the center of Ronan’s back. Ronan’s harsh breaths are driving him wild. When his teeth graze skin, Ronan arches into his touch and stifles a moan.

Adam goes lower and lower and lower, his mouth hovering right above the base of Ronan’s spine, where a vine meets a sharp beak, and suddenly he has the wild, ridiculous urge to go even lower, but he just sucks on the skin, causing Ronan to make a particularly obscene sound, and then makes his way upwards again. 

By the time he reaches the back of Ronan’s neck again, Ronan is flushed everywhere, panting heavily, looking undone though Adam hasn’t even touched him. 

“Well,” Ronan says, voice rough, “I’m definitely awake now.” 

Adam laughs and rolls off of him, and when Ronan turns over, Adam can see that he is straining against his boxers. 

“You know, you did say I could get you off in the morning,” Adam drawls.

Ronan snorts. “Your generous wake up call was enough, thanks. I’m going to make breakfast.” 

Adam grabs his arm before he can leave. “What’s the rush? It’s still early.”

Ronan groans. “You and your clinginess, Parrish. I’m hungry.” 

“Ten more minutes.”

“Jesus—“ 

“If you don’t get back here, I’ll tell Henry about all the valentines you dreamt for me and he’ll never let you live it down.”

Ronan flushes at the reminder. “You’re resorting to blackmail, now?”

“Yup,” Adam replies, unabashed.

Ronan shakes his head, but gets back under the covers anyways. Ten minutes turns into thirty, but neither of them mind.

 

*

 

Adam is stunned awake in the middle of the night by a small beast standing over him. He is too sleep addled at first to realize what he’s looking at, and when it comes together, he freezes in fear.

The night horror is looking at him, eyes sharp and unfriendly. Adam’s eyes quickly dart around the room, the cogs in his brain turning to come up with a solution, mind spinning into action mode. Ronan is paralyzed next to him, and Adam can see a gash running from the top of his chest downwards beneath his tank top.

For a moment, he reaches for Cabeswater, desperate, aching to feel its protective vines curl around him, and it’s like a punch to the gut when he remembers that it’s gone. 

The creature lets out a high, shrill sound and just when Adam thinks it’s going to launch at them, it runs towards the large window across from the bed and breaks through it, flying into the night. The whole thing happens in a matter of seconds, and Adam can hardly process it. All he notices is the glass shattered on the floor, the jagged pieces fortunately not making it far enough to hurt either of them, and Ronan’s shaking form beside him. He feels the late February chill enter the room, giving him goosebumps. He half expects Opal to come running to their room, sobbing loudly as she does, before he remembers that she’s at Fox Way, thankfully.

Adam tries to control his breathing, his shaking hands as he runs them over Ronan’s arms, his shoulders.

“Ronan,” Adam chokes out, and he can hear the terror in his voice. “Ronan, are you—“ 

He doesn’t get to finish his thought – he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, anyways – because then Ronan is gasping and sitting up, his whole body trembling.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ronan rasps, immediately turning to look over Adam, eyes wide and panicked. He looks stricken, more terrified than Adam has even seen him. “Did it—are you—“ 

Adam shakes his head. “I’m fine. It didn’t hurt me.”

Ronan exhales a massive sigh of relief, nearly collapsing with it. He closes his eyes for a moment, his mouth trembling with some unnamable emotion, before he gets up and trudges to the bathroom, body coiled tight.

Adam stumbles after him. “Lynch.” 

Ronan angrily bangs open the door and removes his tank. Adam freezes in the doorway at the sight, feeling acid in his veins. The wound runs from Ronan’s left shoulder down to his right hipbone. It doesn’t look too deep, but there’s still a lot of blood, and Adam feels dizzy. When he looks closer, he sees smaller wounds on his upper arms, as well as bruises on his chest, suspiciously close to his throat.

He almost recoils; his mind is no longer in the spacious bathroom in the Barns, his hands aren’t shaking at his sides. No, the demon has his hands and his eyes, and he’s choking Ronan who is gasping for breath, black ooze dripping down his face, and he’s _dying_ and— 

“Parrish,” Ronan says, and his voice temporarily brings Adam back to the present and grounds him, his voice that is harsh but laced with poorly disguised concern, concern for _Adam_ , Adam who doesn’t have a single spot of blood on him, Adam who just now had his hands around Ronan’s throat, who just _killed him—_  

“ _Adam._ ”

Adam takes a shuddering breath and steps forward, clutching Ronan’s hand, tightly. Adam’s face is expressionless, now, the line of his mouth firm, with anger, or something like anger, except he doesn’t know who or what he’s angry at.

“You should go to the hospital,” Adam says, voice eerily calm.

Ronan shoots him an annoyed look. “Don’t be an idiot, Parrish.” 

“This isn’t just a small cut, Lynch. It’s one of the worst—“

“I’ve dealt with worse on my own,” Ronan snaps. “If you’re going to be a dick about it then I’ll do it by myself.”

Ronan’s expression is stubborn, and Adam knows he’s not going to budge, so he takes the cloth bandage from Ronan’s hand and puts it aside. 

“You need to clean the wound first, idiot,” Adam mutters, though he knows that Ronan knows this and chooses to ignore it. 

Ronan doesn’t say anything as Adam works on the biggest gash first, cleaning it and bandaging it up as quickly as he can. Ronan tries to keep his expression neutral, but Adam can see the pain he’s feeling in the furrow between his eyebrows, in the way his teeth grit together, in the small pained noises he lets escape. Each noise sends a stab through Adam’s heart.

His own hands have been shaking the whole time, but he stills them as best he can and tries not to remember the way they had wrapped around Ronan’s throat, months ago, only seconds ago.

Ronan watches Adam’s face as he treats all the wounds, watches the angry curve of his mouth, the way he purposely avoids Ronan’s gaze. 

When he’s done, he still doesn’t look at Ronan. He takes a step back and says, voice emotionless, “You’ll need to fix the window. I can clean up all the glass so no one gets hurt from it.”

Ronan doesn’t reply. He just stares at Adam, gaze unwavering.

“ _What?_ ” Adam snaps, unsure of where the rage boiling inside him is coming from or whom it’s directed at.

Ronan glares at Adam, his defenses in place already, though neither of them knows what he’s defending himself from. “Guess it finally hit you, then.” 

“What are you talking about?”

Ronan shakes his head. “Nothing. You should go back to sleep.”

“It’s obviously not nothing. Don’t bullshit with me, Lynch.” 

Ronan’s hands are clenched into fists. “Go sleep in Declan’s room, Parrish. If you want to sleep here at all. Which by the look on your face, you really fucking don’t.”

“ _What?_ ” Adam asks again, bewildered.

Ronan sneers, his expression completely devoid of warmth. It’s a weapon, aimed straight for Adam. Not sharp enough to hurt, only enough to drive him away. “Come on, Parrish. Do you really want to end up like my mom? Or Gansey? Cabeswater won’t be here to save anyone, this time.”

Adam gapes at him. “That’s not—you think _that’s_ what I care about?” 

“It’s what you _should_ care about,” Ronan snarls. “You almost just fucking ended up dead!”

Adam’s temper rises further. They’d always been sparks bouncing off each other, after all, the flames only growing when they collided.

“I don’t have any blood on me, Ronan. I’m _fine_. You’re the one who was nearly ripped apart. What the hell _happened_?”

Ronan storms past him, going back to his bed, not taking particular care to avoid the glass on the floor. Adam follows him, lightly grabbing his arm, but Ronan pulls away.

“Would you fucking talk to me for a second?”

“Don’t feel like it,” Ronan bites out. 

Adam clenches his jaw, counts his breaths. Finally, he says, “Just tell me what happened, Ronan.” 

“Fine,” Ronan growls, and Adam can tell that his words are going to be bullets. The nightmare tore open more than just his skin; all of Ronan’s deeply buried fears in his guilt-ridden mind are spilling out. He’s an open wound. “You really want to know? My dad was dead on the ground because of me. The demon killed Mom because I didn’t get her out of Cabeswater fast enough, because I didn’t find a way to wake her up fast enough. Gansey died to save me and fucking stayed dead. Noah was gone because of me, Matthew died because of me, because Kavinsky blew up that fucking car to get to me.” 

Adam tries to get a word in, but Ronan is a rampage, practically trembling with anger and pain and guilt, voice snarling but unable to hide what he’s truly feeling.

“And then there was you, finally. You were sleeping next to me when the night horror tore you apart. Your body was even worse off than Mom’s.” 

Adam can do nothing but stare, heart clenching painfully inside his chest.

“Except most of it wasn’t a nightmare. It all fucking happened, or would have happened if someone else hadn’t fixed it. That last one can still happen, and for some reason you’re still fucking here.” 

“Ronan,” Adam manages, voice thick, his anger slowly draining away.

“Don’t,” Ronan barks. “You’ll fucking be ripped apart by a night horror’s beaks and claws one day. It could’ve happened tonight. You— _Jesus_ , Adam—“ 

“Ronan,” Adam says, firmly now, hands clutching Ronan’s shoulders. “Stop it.” 

“ _No_ ,” Ronan says through gritted teeth. “Dad told me—he told me that dreamers are weapons, that we were fucking _deadly_ and _poisonous_ and he was right. I thought I could make up for it but I—I can’t—“

“Ronan, _stop_ ,” Adam shouts, trying to control Ronan’s shaking, but the other boy pulls away.

“What is it, Parrish? You want to end up with your fucking guts all over the floor, too? Because that’s what’s going to happen. Every fucking night you sleep next to me there’s a chance you might not wake up.” 

Adam doesn’t flinch. He knows Ronan’s shielding himself, knows that it isn’t about him, not really.

Adam steps closer, looks Ronan in the eye. “I don’t care.”

This seems to send a shock through Ronan. “The fuck do you mean _you don’t care_?”

“I mean, I don’t _care_. I’m not going anywhere, Ronan.”

Ronan’s face twists in anger and something else that Adam recognizes but can’t name. “Then you’re a fucking idiot.” 

“What can I say? You make me stupid.”

“This isn’t a goddamn joke!”

Adam clutches Ronan’s sides, bringing him closer, their noses almost touching. Ronan doesn’t pull away this time.

“I’m not joking. I’m. Not. Going. Anywhere. I’m staying right here, Lynch. So you can lash out and try to scare me off and be as much of an asshole as you fucking want, and I’ll still be here.”

Ronan is speechless, for a moment, before he chokes out, “Why?” He doesn’t sound angry anymore. He sounds small, broken. Adam can feel his breath on his lips, less than an inch away. 

 _Because I love you_. 

The words come so suddenly to Adam’s mind that he almost recoils. They are words Adam has never thought before about Ronan, never _let_ himself think before. He can’t say them, though, too unsure of himself and afraid of breaking everything. He doesn’t have enough information to know if they’re true.

So he just kisses Ronan, once, bruising. Ronan is shaking in his arms. “That’s why,” Adam whispers, and then Ronan is collapsing against him. Adam can feel tears fall down the crook of his neck, Ronan’s eyelashes quivering against his skin, damp with grief, with guilt. 

They stay like that for a while, Adam clutching Ronan’s shoulders tightly, Ronan burying his head in Adam’s chest, until Ronan pulls away. His face no longer holds anger, or even sadness. He looks numb, withdrawn. Adam takes his hand, squeezes it, and leads him towards the bed, and Ronan follows without protest.

They lay on their sides facing each other, except Ronan isn’t looking at Adam, but past him, through him, staring into nothingness. Adam brings his palm to Ronan’s face and strokes his cheek gently, wiping the tearstains away. 

“Ronan,” Adam says gently.

Ronan closes his eyes. “It’s my fault. All of it.” His voice is barely more than a whisper.

Adam knows this is something Ronan has been struggling with since the beginning, since his father’s death, and the events of the fall just amplified those demons to an unbearable degree. _My fault, my fault, my fault_. 

Adam has been there with him so many times when he woke up from a nightmare, tears streaming down his face, has held him while he fell apart. But Ronan had never truly voiced the extent of his self-blame and his guilt, even though Adam knew it was there somewhere. 

The very real possibility of Adam getting hurt from his dreams was apparently what it took to make it all come pouring out. 

“It’s not your fault, Ronan. Just like the demon possessing me and—and trying to kill you isn’t my fault.”

“That’s not the same thing. The demon wanted to unmake me, that’s why everything—Gansey and Mom and— _Fuck_. I can’t make up for it. I thought I could but I fucking can’t. Dad was right. Dreamers are always dangerous weapons.”

Adam suddenly hates Niall Lynch with an overwhelming intensity.

“You’re not,” Adam says fiercely. He moves closer and kisses his forehead. “You have nothing to make up for.” He kisses the corner of his mouth. “You’re not a weapon.” His cheek. “You’re not dangerous.” His jaw. “You’re not poisonous.” His lips, finally, finally. “And whoever told you that shit doesn’t know anything.”

Ronan exhales raggedly. “Adam—“ 

“I wouldn’t be here without you, you know.” Adam takes Ronan’s hands in his and kisses his knuckles. “You’re the farthest thing from a weapon.” His wrist, right above his scars. “You protected me, and Opal, and everyone else that you care about.” His palm. Adam has to take a deep breath before continuing, not used to laying out his feelings so openly. But he knows that Ronan needs to hear this. He needs Ronan to know. “You’re good, Ronan, and you’re—you’re kind and loyal and I’m—we’re all lucky to have you.”

Ronan tightens his hold on Adam’s hands. His eyes are trained on Adam, expression raw and vulnerable and needy. 

There is something else that needs to be said, and Adam prepares himself to let the words out. He looks at Ronan, studies the sharp angles of his face. He used to think that he’d cut himself on Ronan’s sharp edges, that this boy was nothing but a walking war, a warning, a snake, a sign that screamed _danger_. How incredibly wrong he was. 

Adam moves ever closer, blue eyes looking into blue. “You’re not dangerous, Ronan,” he says again. “Cabeswater said it, remember? _Greywaren semper est incorruptus._ And it was right. I… I feel safe with you. You make me feel—safe. Like…” _Like nothing can hurt me as long as you’re here. Like I’m warm and happy and at home._ “Like I’ll always be safe here.” 

It feels like a very big thing to say, especially for a boy who has always lived in fear, who has never felt safe in his life. But Adam knows without a doubt that the words are true. 

Ronan swallows and says, “Adam.”

Adam will always be in awe of how Ronan manages to convey an infinity of emotions in the way he says Adam’s name.

Adam pulls Ronan’s head to his chest, and Ronan clutches him like a lifeline.

“Go to sleep, Lynch.” 

“If I—“ 

“If you pull something bad out of your dreams again, I’ll still be here, and we’ll deal with it. Now go to sleep.”

Ronan doesn’t say anything else, just kisses Adam’s collarbone gently in a silent show of gratitude, and closes his eyes.

 

*

 

The next morning, Adam cleans up the glass on the floor and then gets back into bed, spending a good thirty minutes simply looking at Ronan’s sleeping form. He didn’t get much sleep after the whole ordeal, but surprisingly Ronan seemed to have gotten a decent amount.

When Ronan’s eyes flutter open, Adam is caught staring. There is nothing of the usual, lazy early morning smile in Ronan’s expression. He looks haunted.

“Hey,” Adam says softly, hand coming up to cup his cheek. 

Ronan doesn’t say anything, just looks.

“Did you sleep much?” 

Ronan shrugs. “More than I expected.” 

“I should replace your bandages,” Adam murmurs, looking over all of Ronan’s injuries from the night before.

Ronan scoffs, clearly unconcerned. Adam just looks at him, his thumb tracing his cheekbone over and over and over again.

After a while, Adam says, quietly, “I meant it, you know.”

Ronan raises an eyebrow in question. 

“What I said last night,” Adam clarifies. “Everything I said, I… I meant all of it.”

Ronan’s expression turns complicated, and Adam moves closer and kisses the furrow between his eyebrows. 

“You could have died,” Ronan says finally, voice hoarse.

Adam gives him a look. “ _You_ could have died. I’m not the one who was injured. Do you—do you know what brought it on? I mean, you haven’t had a nightmare physically hurt you since before—everything.”

Ronan averts his gaze, tries to shutter his expression, but Adam can see the guilt in it. His blood goes cold. 

“When?” Adam demands. “When has this happened before? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t have to tell you every time I get a paper cut, Parrish,” Ronan scowls, sounding more like himself. 

“This is much more than a paper cut, and you know it.”

Ronan makes an exasperated sound. “They weren’t as bad as this, okay? It’s not a big deal. It’s only happened a few times in the past couple months.” 

“How many is a few?” 

“ _Parrish._ Drop it.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me? How did I not see it? They must have been pretty noticeable.” 

Ronan shrugs. “There were plenty of times we didn’t see each other for days.” 

“So you were purposely hiding it from me?” The thought hurts more than Adam cares to admit.

“I wasn’t—look they really weren’t that bad, alright? And they healed pretty quickly. I didn’t mention it to anyone because I knew you would make a bigger fucking deal out of it than necessary. And there was no reason to worry.”

“And last night?” Adam snaps. “Was that not a reason to worry, either?”

Ronan closes his eyes for a long moment. “Last night was… worse than the others. The worst one I’ve had in months.”

Adam lets out a watery breath. “And you were worried about _me_ getting hurt, you asshole.” 

“You almost _did_ get hurt.” 

“The night horror didn’t attack me, Ronan. It didn’t even try to. That’s not the point, anyways. I—Jesus—I was so scared.” The last part comes out cracked and broken. 

“You didn’t have to be,” Ronan says.

Adam laughs humorlessly, and it sounds more like a sob. “I didn’t have to be scared? Of course I fucking—god, you _jerk_. You were covered in blood and—and the _bruises_ on you and—“ 

Ronan takes Adam’s hands, holds them between his own. “Adam.”

Adam can feel tears prickle at his eyes. “I almost lost you so many times. All I could think about last night was the demon and how you almost—“ 

Ronan interrupts him with a kiss, his lips firm on Adam’s. Adam opens his mouth and lets him in, his hand going up to his chest and feeling his racing heartbeat, confirming that he’s still living, still breathing, still here with Adam.

When they finally pull apart, Adam presses their foreheads together. “You can’t not tell me when things like this happen.”

Ronan sighs. “I know.” 

“I’m serious. You can’t do that. No more of the lying by omission bullshit you do.” 

“Okay. Okay, Adam.” He pauses, looking at the clock on the bedside table. “Parrish, didn’t you have to be at work like… fifteen minutes ago?” 

“I was taking an extra shift. I changed it to later. I… I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

Ronan swallows. “I’m glad I didn’t.”

They lay there for a while, enjoying each other’s warmth, until Adam says, “They’re all wrong, you know.”

Ronan lifts his head from where he’s kissing Adam’s collarbone. “Who?” 

“Whoever told you that you’re a weapon. Or made you feel like you were nothing more than danger and—and sharp edges.”

Ronan groans in exaggerated annoyance. “I thought we’d moved on from that emotional bullshit.”

“I need you to believe it,” Adam insists, not fooled by Ronan’s practiced nonchalance. He hesitates. “I used to see you that way, too, when we first met. Not really my fault, since you were a complete asshole.” 

Ronan snorts. 

“Of course, you’re still an asshole,” Adam clarifies. “But I know you, now.”

“Do you really? Tell me then, Einstein. If I’m not a weapon, what the hell am I?”

Adam thinks about it. He almost says _a shield_ , but that’s not right, either. Ronan is more than the people he loves and protects, even though that is an intrinsic part of him. He doesn’t think Ronan can be condensed into one word or object. This is the boy who dreams beautiful, impossible things and is a beautiful, impossible thing himself. He is everything.

Adam looks up at Ronan and traces the angles of his face. “Hmm, I don’t know. An impossibility. A wonder. A miracle.” Touching Ronan’s lip with his thumb, Adam adds, grinning, “A jackass.”

Ronan lets out a sharp laugh and bites Adam’s thumb playfully. “Thanks, dickhead. I feel much better now.”

He says it sarcastically, but Adam can hear the truth in his words.

 

*

 

When Adam arrives at the Barns on a Saturday at the end of February, Ronan looks startled before he schools his expression into something neutral. 

Adam drops his bag on the floor next to the couch and collapses beside Ronan. “What?”

Ronan opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. “Is that my shirt?” His eyebrows furrow. “And my jeans?” 

Adam looks down and flushes when he realizes Ronan is right. Well, that explains why the black shirt and jeans he’s wearing are a little too big on him. “Shit. I, uh… I sort of changed in a hurry after work. I didn’t realize. How did they even end up at my place?” 

Ronan shrugs. “Fuck if I know. Maybe I left them there, or you took them to St. Agnes back instead of your own clothes.” He smirks. “You look good in them, though.”

Adam huffs. “Yeah, we’ve already established that you like seeing me in your clothes, Lynch. Unfortunately for you, I’d like to wear my own. Except they keep disappearing.”

Ronan stands up and holds out his hand. “Come on.”

Adam raises a questioning eyebrow but follows him anyways. They go upstairs to Ronan’s room, and Ronan stops in front of his large dresser that has five drawers.

Adam just stares at Ronan as the other boy takes a deep breath and opens the second drawer. 

Adam looks down and finds himself staring at a drawer full of his own clothes. _Oh._

Ronan is chewing on his wristbands, so his voice comes out slightly muffled when he says, “You always leave a bunch of your shit here by accident, and I kept finding it in mixed in with my clothes, so I figured, you know, it’d be easier this way.”

Adam doesn’t say anything, just looks at Ronan.

Ronan is rambling, a little, now. “You could just keep whatever stuff you want in here. Or if you want more space, take another drawer, or two. What the fuck ever. It’s just easier, you spend half your weekends here anyways, you might as well leave some of your clothes and shit here. I mean, you don’t fucking have to, I just thought—“

“Ronan,” Adam interrupts Ronan’s nervous rambling by putting his palm to Ronan’s lips. 

Ronan glares at him, and Adam removes his hand.

“Okay,” Adam says. 

Ronan sounds incredulous. “Okay?” 

Adam shrugs. “Okay. You’re right. It makes sense to leave some of my stuff here. Thanks.” 

Ronan looks a little lost, his eyebrows twisting in confusion. “Um, you’re welcome?” 

“Okay, well. Is there anything to eat? I’m starving.” Adam turns to leave the room, but Ronan catches his wrist, pulling him back. 

“Wait,” Ronan says, sounding nervous again. “There’s something else.” Adam watches as Ronan takes something out of the first drawer, and then he hands it to Adam. “It’s a key to the Barns. And the BMW.”

Adam stares at the silver key in his palm, not quite seeing it. He stares and stares and stares, until the tense silence is too much to bear for Ronan.

“Don’t be an idiot about this, Parrish.”

Adam looks at him, irritated. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means. It’s just a goddamn key. Don’t make it into something it fucking isn’t.”

“Things don’t have to mean as much to me as they do to you,” Adam says quietly.

The hurt that flashes across Ronan’s face twists something inside Adam.

“No,” Adam says, desperately. “I didn’t—that came out wrong. I meant—this might not be a big deal to you but it is, to me. This is a key to your home, and your dad’s car, and I—“ Adam falters, words failing him. 

Ronan sighs, dragging a hand over his face. “Parrish, it’s just practical, okay? You’re here a lot. You should have a key. I dreamt this months ago, anyways.” 

“Months?” Adam echoes.

Ronan flushes a little. “Four months, to be exact. Right when we first kissed.”

Adam considers that. “I’m somehow less surprised by that than I should be.”

Ronan huffs. “Shut up.”

They stand in silence for a few moments, before Adam sighs, and says, “Ronan…” And it’s all there in the tone of his voice. He can’t accept this, can he? 

Ronan comes closer to him and takes his hands in his. The key is pressed between their palms. “Adam,” Ronan says, and his eyes are so soft and piercing that Adam’s heart stutters.

With the key between their joined hands, Adam wonders if this is more than just a key to Ronan’s home and Ronan’s car. Or maybe Ronan gave the key to his heart to Adam months and months ago, and Adam took it without considering the weight of what he had been given. It feels like too much trust. Adam doesn’t think he deserves it. 

As a last ditch effort, Adam tries, “Are you sure?” 

Ronan just makes a derisive noise.

Adam swallows, and says, “Okay.”

Ronan’s lips quirk triumphantly. “Okay, Parrish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Latin translations:  
>  _Aere perennius_ = More lasting than bronze; _Ab imo pectore_ = From the bottom of my heart; _In perpetuum et unum diem_ = Forever and a day; _Ad astra per aspera_ = To the stars through hardship; _Greywaren semper est incorruptus_ = The greywaren is always safe (if you look it up incorruptus means "uncorrupted" or "pure" but the actual translation given in BLLB is that, so. idk.)
> 
> Let me know your thoughts! I hope the angst scene wasn't too OOC or overdramatic, I'm not too sure about it. Also, this chapter prioritizes Ronan's emotional state and well being and Adam being there for him more than vice versa, but next chapter will be all about Adam knowing that he's loved (hint, if it wasn't obvious already).


	14. three words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This overwhelming thing inside of him can’t be anything but love. He had thought not so long ago that he wasn’t capable of love, but now it feels like he’s overflowing with it. Sometimes it’s so _much_ that Adam is afraid it will consume him from inside out. And he needs Ronan to know this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter: lots of references and contemplation by Adam about abuse. This chapter was particularly difficult to write so a comment on how you felt about it would be super appreciated. As always, thank you all so much for all the lovely comments and support.

Adam is asleep on the couch at the Barns, exhausted from school and work. Ronan was out somewhere with Opal, so Adam had let himself in with the key that Ronan gave him two weeks ago. He felt a little odd being there alone, like he was an intruder. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, only to lie down for a little bit, but he couldn’t manage to keep his eyes open. 

When Adam’s eyes flutter open, he’s no longer on the sofa. He is being carried up the stairs in Ronan’s strong arms, bridal style.

“Ronan?” Adam croaks, voice heavy with sleep. 

Ronan visibly startles as he realizes that Adam has woken up, and moves to let him stand on his own. Adam immediately brings his hands up around Ronan’s neck and holds tight, shaking his head.

“No. Keep carrying me.”

“You’re awake now, dumbass. Carry yourself.”

“No,” Adam says, stubborn. Ronan makes an exasperated noise but continues to carry Adam up to his room. “What time is it? How long was I asleep?”

“It’s almost ten. You’ve been sleeping like the dead for two hours,” Ronan says, gently laying Adam on the bed. 

Adam groans, sitting up properly and rubbing his eyes. “I didn’t mean to. Why didn’t you wake me?”

Ronan shrugs, collapsing on the bed beside him. “You need your beauty sleep, Parrish. You look like shit.”

Adam snorts. “Thanks. Well, I feel wide awake now.” He stretches and then lets out a hiss of pain.

Ronan looks at Adam with concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just really sore everywhere. And I think I pulled a muscle or something while working on an engine.” 

Ronan considers for a moment, and then mutters, “Wait here.” He then rushes into the bathroom before Adam can respond.

Adam just sits there for five minutes, confused, until Ronan comes back out and takes Adam’s hands, lifting him up from the bed. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Just come on, Parrish.”

When they enter the bathroom, Adam stares in disbelief and awe. The large bathtub is full to the brim with hot water and bubbles, but not just any bubbles. They’re rainbow colored and sparkling and _glowing._

“Dream bubble bath? Seriously?” 

“Don’t look at me like that. I dreamed it for Opal. I added some dream muscle relaxer in there, though. Try it out. It’ll help with the soreness.” 

Before Adam can say anything, Ronan is removing his t-shirt.

“I can do that myself,” Adam huffs.

Ronan gives him a look, and then proceeds to remove Adam’s jeans and boxers as well. Adam lets him, too exhausted to protest.

He helps Adam into the tub. Adam lets out a blissful sigh as the hot water and dream stuff practically liquefies his muscles. 

“God,” Adam groans. “That feels so good.”

Ronan smirks. “It’s interesting hearing you say that under different circumstances.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “Well, this feels a lot better than that.”

Ronan’s expression changes from pleased to offended. “Better than when I get you off? Don’t lie, Parrish.”

“This is so much nicer,” Adam teases. “Your hands and mouth can’t even compare. Better step up your game, Lynch. You have competition.” 

“Fuck you, I’m not listening to this slander. The bubbles won’t run out until you want them to, so enjoy or whatever.” He’s about to leave the bathroom when Adam grabs his wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Adam asks, raising his eyebrows.

Ronan takes one look at Adam’s expression and scowls. “Oh, fuck no.” 

“Shut up and get in here, Lynch.” 

“I’m not taking a fucking bubble bath with you. I prepared this because you’re tired and sore, but I’m not—“

Adam yanks on his hand a little so he almost trips into the tub.

“Jesus,” Ronan snarls, stumbling.

“Get in here,” Adam orders, sterner this time. 

Ronan grins. “Bossy, Parrish.” 

Adam just stares, making it clear that he won’t budge. Ronan gives in and begins taking his clothes off, ignoring Adam’s smug smile. Adam doesn’t bother to hide his appreciative gaze as Ronan undresses.

The bathtub is more spacious than expected, so it doesn’t take that much effort to maneuver them so that Ronan is behind Adam, hands around his waist and chin on his shoulder.

Adam turns his head and smiles at Ronan. “Hey.” 

Ronan kisses him, long and deep. “Hey.” 

Ronan’s hands are rubbing calming circles on Adam’s hipbone, and his lips make their way down Adam’s cheek, his jaw, his neck. Adam sighs and leans his head back, happy and content.

“Feeling better?” Ronan murmurs against his shoulder.

“Yeah. Definitely. God, what’s in this?” 

“Fuck if I know. All I know is that it works. You shouldn’t be this fucking tired in the first place, though. When are you going to cut down your hours, man?” 

Adam tenses. “Ronan—“

“I know, I know, you don’t need to say it. I’m not saying to quit your fucking jobs or whatever, just… Jesus, you don’t have to kill yourself like this.”

“I’m fine,” Adam insists. “I’ve had the same schedule for months and I’ve dealt with it.” 

“You don’t _have_ to, though—“ 

“Ronan,” Adam interrupts, feeling his temper rise. “I really don’t want to fight right now.” 

Ronan scowls. “Fine. Whatever.”

The air is noticeably tenser, and Adam tries to let his anger melt away. For once, it actually does. He doesn’t want this. He just wants to sit here in the warm, comforting water completely at ease in Ronan’s arms, the way he was a few moments before. He sighs and turns his head to look at Ronan, who is still glaring.

“Hey,” Adam says, and then kisses him, tender, a silent truce.

Ronan’s expression softens as Adam pulls away. He presses their foreheads together, bumps their noses.

Adam smiles, a small but sincere thing, and then he blurts, “Is it possible to get off in a bubble bath?”

Ronan blinks at him and then bursts into laughter. “That’s what’s on your mind right now, you freak?”

Adam shrugs, unembarrassed. “I’m just curious. You hear of people doing it in the shower and in pools, but I’ve never heard of bathtub sex before.” 

“We can try it out sometime, if you’re that fucking interested.”

“Sure. Not right now, though. I just want to stay like this for a while,” Adam says, closing his eyes and resting his head against Ronan’s chest. 

Ronan leaves affectionate kisses on the top of his head, his temple, his cheekbone. Adam smiles and hums back.

After a while, Adam murmurs, “See? This is nice, isn’t it? And to think I almost had to drag you in here.”

Ronan makes an unimpressed sound and then splashes water all over Adam’s face and hair. Adam sputters and drags his hands over his face, trying to get the bubbles out of his eyes. 

“Way to ruin the moment, you _asshole_ ,” Adam says. Ronan just grins at him, unrepentant. “Fine, if that’s how it’s gonna be…” Adam takes fills his palms with bubbles and slathers them all over Ronan’s face. Ronan lets out an indignant, high-pitched squeak, sounding a lot like Chainsaw for a moment, and then they’re splashing each other and fake fighting like twelve-year-old boys.

Somehow, Adam eventually ends up turned around in Ronan’s lap, his lips making their way down Ronan’s throat, his hands on Ronan’s lower back. 

“Adam, we should probably get out unless you want to test your getting off in a bathtub theory right now,” Ronan gasps.

Adam laughs in the crook of his neck. “Right. Sorry.”

They get out and get dressed, falling into bed soon after, lazily kissing.

Ronan’s thumb traces Adam’s jaw absently. “How do you feel now?”

Adam makes a content noise. “Still hurts a little but they’re way better than before. Thanks.”

Ronan just kisses Adam’s forehead, and then they’re drifting off to sleep.

 

*

 

When Ronan enters Adam’s apartment (Adam had told him a week ago, casually, that he could dream himself a key if he wanted), Adam is sitting on his mattress, his hands shaking with the envelopes in his hand and sprawled across the bed.

“Adam?” Ronan says, concern in his voice as he walks towards Adam’s frozen form. He sits on the bed beside him and his eyes widen. “Fuck. Is that…?” 

Adam can’t speak, so he just nods furiously. He’s been in this position for a good twenty minutes now, not having the courage to open any of them. 

“Well, what are you waiting for? Open them.”

Adam shakes his head.

“They’re all going to be acceptances, you know that.”

Adam does not know that. He shakes his head again. 

Ronan gently takes the envelopes from him. There are six in total, out of the ten schools he applied to. Most of his top choices are in there, though, so it doesn’t quite make him feel better. 

“Which one do you want to open first?”

Adam takes a deep breath, and then another. He attempts to find his voice. Finally, he croaks out, “What if I didn’t get in?”

Ronan takes Adam’s shaking hand and brings it to his mouth. Adam closes his eyes, letting the feel of Ronan’s lips ground him, quell the fear inside him, at least a little. 

“You did,” Ronan says gently. “They would be idiots not to accept you.”

“But if I didn’t—everything I worked for, I—it’s all for nothing. What if it was all for nothing, Ronan? What if I never get out?”

And then it’s not just about college acceptances anymore, not really.

Ronan moves closer to him and puts his arms around him, kissing his temple, his cheek. “You will. You’ll get everything that you worked for, Adam. You’re Adam fucking Parrish. There’s no way that you won’t.”

Adam exhales shakily. “You—you open them. I can’t—Open Cornell, first. It’s my safety.”

Ronan snorts. “ _Cornell_ is a safety? Christ, you nerd.” Adam doesn’t reply, watching nervously as he opens the envelope and scans the letter.

Ronan turns to him with a grin. “You got in. Fucking obviously.”

Adam lets himself feel elated for a millisecond before reality kicks in. “What does it say about the financial aid?” Adam presses. He knows an acceptance doesn’t mean anything if he can’t afford to go. 

Clearly the idea hadn’t even occurred to Ronan, and Adam has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. The other boy scans the letter once again and then says, “Full fucking ride, Adam.” 

Adam lets out a huge breath he didn’t realize he was holding, feeling his eyes prickle. He snatches the letter from Ronan’s hand, needing to see it with his own eyes. _Mr. Adam Parrish, we are pleased to inform you…_  

“Open the rest,” Adam says, voice thick.

Ronan rips the rest open unceremoniously. “UChicago, full ride. Caltech, full ride.” – Ronan’s voice takes an odd tone at that – “MIT and Yale… partial scholarship, those damn assholes.” 

Only Columbia is left, and Adam wrings his hands anxiously as Ronan opens the letter. 

“Full ride, once again. Congrats, Einstein.” 

Adam lets out a laugh that turns into a sob, and then he’s crying, tears falling freely down his face. He doesn’t try to wipe them, for once.

“God,” Adam chokes out. “God, I—God.” He cries harder.

Ronan pulls him close, his arms tight around him, and Adam sobs into his shoulder, relief and happiness and disbelief pouring out of him in equal measure.

“God,” Adam says again, voice muffled into Ronan’s t-shirt. “I did it. I actually did it.” 

“Of course you fucking did,” Ronan says, smiling wide.

Adam laughs almost giddily and buries his face further into Ronan’s chest, feeling elated and overwhelmed and _so much_.

“Come on. I’m calling Sargent and Cheng. Let’s go over to Monmouth and celebrate.”

Adam nods, still feeling dazed. They drive to Monmouth with Ronan ranting away about the various flaws in the American education system and how none of those schools deserve even getting a second look from him, the latter part annoying Adam and the former turning him on. 

Ronan had already informed everyone of the news over the phone – they were all shocked once again by Ronan Lynch using his phone – and so when Adam enters Monmouth, he is immediately tackled by Blue, who hugs him with such intensity that he did not think a 4’11 girl was capable of. 

“Blue,” Adam says, voice both pained and amused, “You’re crushing my internal organs here.”

Blue pulls back, looking a little sheepish, but still beaming. “Sorry. But god! This is amazing. I mean, we all knew you’d get in but still. Congratulations!” And then she hugs him again, quickly.

“Thanks,” Adam replies, smiling.

Henry comes up to him next and claps him on the shoulder. “I’m sure Harvard and Princeton and whatever other schools you’re waiting on will also accept you. And then they’ll be begging you to choose them.”

“Get prepared, Parrish,” Ronan says from where he’s sprawled on the couch. “All the fancy Ivies are going to start courting you. They’ll probably send you flowers and shit. The whole nine yards.”

“They’ll court me, huh? Looks like you’ll have some competition, Lynch.”

Ronan snorts. “Please. I could beat Harvard’s ass any day.”

Adam shakes his head fondly, and then Gansey is in front of him, beaming. “I’m so happy for you, Adam. I always knew you’d do it.”

“Thanks, Gansey.”

Gansey holds out his fist, and Adam bumps his knuckles. He thinks that’s the end of it, but then Gansey pulls him into a brief, tight hug. Adam is surprised; they’d never been the type of friends to hug. But he lets himself melt into the comforting embrace for a moment, the scent of mint leaves and Gansey’s aftershave familiar and grounding.

When they break apart, Adam spots Opal peeking out from behind Ronan’s door, eyes wide and curious. 

Ronan notices her too, breaking into a sharp grin. “Guess what, brat. Adam’s officially into nerd school.” 

Adam doesn’t think Opal completely understands the concept of college, though he had explained it to her once, but she smiles proudly anyway. She runs over to him and hugs his legs.

“Congratulations, Adam,” Opal echoes, saying it like _Congra-choo-lay-shuns_ , and Adam thanks her, hugging her back and kissing her hair.

Chainsaw then flies out from Ronan’s room and lands herself on top of Adam’s head, starting to peck at his forehead affectionately. Adam jumps a little in surprise and then holds out his arm for Chainsaw to perch on, stroking her feathers affectionately with his free hand. 

“ _Kerah_ ,” Chainsaw squawks, and Opal narrows her eyes at the raven, displeased at the blatant theft of her name for Ronan. Nevermind that Chainsaw was the one who came up with it first. Although, Opal had been in Ronan’s dreams long before he brought Chainsaw out, so Adam supposes it’s possible that it was the other way around. 

Ronan is beaming at them. “That’s her way of saying _Congratulations, you fucking loser_.”

“She really is your child,” Adam says dryly.

“I’m taking that as a compliment, Parrish.” 

“I brought Nino’s to celebrate,” Blue says, pointing to the large boxes of pizza on the coffee table. “Let’s dig in, I’m starving.”

Soon, Adam is stuffed full, lounging on the couch with Ronan pressed next to him and Opal sitting in his lap.

“So, Parrish,” Henry says. “What are you thinking? What are your top choices? Assuming you get into the remaining schools, which you obviously will.” 

“Oh, um,” Adam shrugs. “I’m not completely sure yet, but, I’m leaning towards Columbia, and Harvard and Princeton if I get in, but I don’t know for those yet.”

“Oh, you’ll get in,” Gansey says easily.

“Even if I do, I might not get the necessary financial aid,” Adam points out. “I’m not going to pick a school that’s only giving me half the money to go, like Yale and MIT are, if I have a bunch of full ride options.”

“Well, if you want my opinion,” Henry starts.

“He doesn’t,” Ronan bites.

Henry ignores him. “You’d love MIT or Caltech. I love Boston, and I’ve traveled to Pasadena quite a few times. It’s great. West coast is better than east any day.”

Adam feels Ronan tense beside him. Adam shifts uncomfortably. “Caltech used to be my top pick academics wise, and it has a great engineering program,” Adam admits. “I don’t know about the size and location, though. It’s pretty small.” He almost says, _it’s also across the country versus a several hours’ car ride away_. Adam is all too aware of Ronan’s jittery form next to him, the way he’s anxiously fidgeting with his wristbands. Besides, Adam isn't a fan of the west coast in general. He had considered applying to Stanford, but he knew the chances of him going there if he got into his other options were slim.  

“I wish I could go to California,” Blue says wistfully. 

“We can visit it on our roadtrip, Wendybird,” Henry says.

“How is the planning for that going, anyways?” Adam asks, suddenly eager to get spotlight away from his choice of college.

The deflection works, though Adam can still feel the uneasy energy flowing from Ronan.

Opal wants to sleep over at Fox Way again, so Ronan and Adam drive back to St. Agnes later that night. 

They collapse on the bed. Adam is exhausted, physically and mentally, from the day’s events. Everything still feels surreal.

“I can’t believe I actually did it,” Adam says, probably for the fifth time that day, sounding delirious and probably a little drunk.

“I can’t believe that you can’t believe you did it.” 

Adam turns his head, raising his eyebrows. 

Ronan rolls his eyes. “Come on, Parrish. It’s _you_. Of course you fucking did it.”

Adam makes an exasperated sound. “What does that _mean_? I don’t automatically get things handed to me because I’m me, you know. I’m not Gansey.” 

“And thank god for that. Relax, Parrish, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” Adam retorts, a little harshly, unreasonably annoyed. 

Ronan sighs and lifts himself up, hovering over Adam. He kisses him, once, and then says, “I meant that… it’s you. You’re Adam Parrish. You’ll work tirelessly until you get what you want. You always have. And not a damn thing can stop you.” Ronan kisses his jaw, then trails kisses up to his right ear. “It means that you’ll go to Harvard or Columbia or whatever fancy school you want to and graduate with straight fucking A’s and honors and all that crap and show those dumbasses how it’s done. And then you’ll conquer the world or some shit, and look sexy as fuck while doing it, too.” 

Adam’s throat feels thick. “You really believe I can do all that?” His voice comes out small, a little awed.

Ronan pulls back, frowning. “Of course I do. Why do you sound so surprised?”

Adam’s mouth wobbles. He blinks repeatedly. “I don’t know, I just… I guess I didn’t realize…” He trails off, feeling off kilter, not entirely sure what he’s trying to say. He doesn't understand anything. 

Ronan looks almost offended. “You didn’t realize I think you’re incredible and could reach the fucking stars if you wanted to?” He scoffs. “Clearly I haven’t been doing my job right.”

Adam touches Ronan’s cheek, suddenly so grateful that he can hardly bear it. “Thank you,” Adam says quietly.

“Yeah, whatever,” Ronan mutters, ears slightly pink. “Don’t let it get to your head. You’re still a loser.” 

Adam laughs softly, fingers tracing over Ronan’s eyebrows, his temple. 

Ronan kisses the corner of his mouth, serious again. “You’re the magician, remember? You can fucking do anything.”

Adam’s heart feels too big for his chest. He looks at Ronan, and almost says it. It almost spills out of him. 

But he can’t. He hates himself a little bit. Why can’t he just _say_ it? 

“Ronan,” Adam says instead, voice overflowing with emotion.

He doesn’t know what else to say. 

Ronan kisses him, and Adam kisses back, desperately, trying to convey with his lips what he can’t in words. 

When they pull away, after what feels like hours, Adam says, “I should be hearing back from the rest in a few days. Then I can start deciding.” 

Ronan’s expression shutters a little bit, and he doesn’t meet Adam’s eyes. “Yeah, you should probably keep me out of that discussion. All these schools are the same shit to me. There’s only one thing that I really care about.”  

Adam lifts Ronan’s chin up with his fingers, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Ronan. I’m coming back.”

Ronan scowls. “I know that. That doesn’t mean—“ Ronan breaks off, biting his lip. Adam thinks he can finish his thought. _That doesn’t mean that the distance doesn’t matter, that it won’t hurt when you leave_. 

Adam sighs and links his arms around the back of Ronan’s neck. “Well, Columbia is one of my top picks. It’s relatively close to here.”

“355.9 miles,” Ronan says immediately. 

Adam’s mouth falls open. “You looked it up?” 

Ronan flushes. “You’re the one who had that crazy ass folder with information for all the different schools, Parrish.” 

“Yeah, and you only glanced at it for like two seconds. Which means you looked up the distances on your own and memorized them.” Adam feels his lips turn up into a smug smile. 

Ronan glares at him. “Shut the fuck up, Adam.”

Adam laughs, and just to be a shithead, he asks, “Hey, I forget, how far is Harvard from the Barns?” 

“You’re an asshole.”

“That means you know, don’t you?” 

Ronan’s silence is answer enough. 

“Do you know how far Cornell is? What about Yale or Dartmouth?” 

“I swear to God, Parrish—“

“What about Princeton or UPenn or Brown?”

Ronan grits his teeth. “I… don’t remember Brown.”

Adam cackles in delight, and Ronan kisses him to shut him up.

“You’re terrible,” Ronan mutters, fingers playing with the collar of Adam’s shirt, but he’s trying very hard not to smile. 

“Hey,” Adam says quietly, a little sheepish, as his hand traces the lines of Ronan’s tattoo that are peeking out, “I have the distances memorized too.”

Ronan smirks. “Do you now, Parrish?” 

Adam rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

Ronan grins wider, then sobers, looking away from Adam again. “Do you know the distance from here to California?”

Adam swallows, feeling guilty, and then getting annoyed at himself for feeling guilty. He shouldn’t have to feel guilty for considering options that are across the country. He has a right to go wherever he wants. He’s earned that.

“Yeah, I do,” Adam snaps, knowing that he’s being unfair and misdirecting his anger but unable to stop. “It’s 2,500 miles. That doesn’t mean I should automatically write it off as an option.” 

Ronan looks up at him, face twisting in irritation. “What the hell, Parrish? I wasn’t saying that.” 

Adam doesn’t say anything, just stews in silence. 

Ronan grits his teeth in anger and rolls onto his back. They both stare at the ceiling. 

Adam sighs, his anger slowly trickling away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I know you weren’t saying that. I’m just… so used to being made to feel guilty for wanting to leave.” 

He remembers his father yelling at his face, _You think you’re getting out of this town and going to some fancy school? You think I’ll let you? Keep dreaming._ He remembers his mother saying, _You’re going to leave us all alone to support ourselves? Don’t be selfish, Adam._  

He even remembers his fear that Cabeswater wouldn’t let him leave, and his guilt that he was leaving Gansey behind, which is ironic looking back.

Ronan turns on his side and looks at Adam. “I would never try to make you feel guilty for that. At least not intentionally.”

Adam takes Ronan’s hands in his and laces their fingers together. “I know. I’m sorry.” He takes a deep breath. “You know it matters to me, too. The distance. I might want to go far away from Henrietta but I… I don’t ever want to be far away from you.”

Ronan’s expression is unshielded for a moment, and Adam leans forward and kisses his forehead, leaving his lips there as they drift off to sleep soon after, wanting to be as close as possible.

  

*

 

They’re all at Nino’s on a Wednesday afternoon in early April. Adam and Ronan are pressed against each other, holding hands under the table, and Opal is next to them, chewing on silverware.

“Adam, you’re not joining us at Monmouth on Friday? I thought you wanted to have the movie marathon,” Blue accuses. 

Adam shifts uncomfortably. “Um, yeah, but I think me and Ronan are just going to spend the night at the Barns.” 

“Ditching us for alone time with Lynch? I’m wounded, Parrish,” Henry says. 

Adam shrugs, not particularly remorseful. 

“You’ll come to Fox Way on Saturday then, won’t you? We were all planning to have dinner there.” 

Adam winces. “Well…”

He and Ronan had planned to spend the whole weekend together. It’s not that he doesn’t like spending time with Blue, Gansey, and Henry or hanging out at Fox Way, but it had been almost two weeks since he’d gotten any real alone time with Ronan, with Adam being too busy with work and school and Ronan spending the last weekend in D.C.  

Blue teases, “Yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re head over heels in love with Ronan and now your other friends don’t matter.”

Adam doesn’t mean to visibly tense and move away from Ronan at the words _in love_ , but it somehow ends up happening anyways. A wave of guilt hits him when he sees the brief wounded look that flashes across Ronan’s face before he manages to school his expression. 

Gansey and Henry move on to another topic of conversation, oblivious to the sudden tension, but Blue casts a worried and apologetic glance Adam’s way. Adam tries to dismiss it with a look, but Blue isn’t fooled.

Adam has to leave for work soon after, and he kisses Opal’s cheek before leaving. Ronan is still a little stiff and distant beside him, so Adam just squeezes his hand and tells him he’ll see him tomorrow. 

To Adam’s surprise, Blue follows Adam out, claiming that she needs to talk to Adam about something that Calla told her. Blue sits in the passenger seat of the Hondayota, her gaze calculating as she studies Adam.

“Something I said?” Blue asks finally, voice filled with concern. 

Adam sighs and dramatically thumps his head against his seat. “I just—I haven’t said it, yet. I haven’t told him that I… you know.” 

“Has he said it to you?”

“No. I know he does, though. But, I don’t know. Words aren’t really his thing. And I… I’m still trying to figure it out. If I really l-love him.” 

Blue’s expression is a little incredulous. “You don’t think you love him? Adam, far be it from me to tell you what you’re feeling, but if you two aren’t completely in love with each other, there’s definitely isn’t any hope for the rest of is.”

“But how do you _know_?” Adam insists, agitated. “How do I know for sure that it’s love? I can’t tell him unless I’m a hundred percent certain. I don’t want to say it and then realize that I didn’t mean it. I can’t hurt him like that. I’ve been trying to figure it out but it’s impossible when there’s no set of rules to follow.”

“Adam, this isn’t something you can break down in your scientific method extracurricular or whatever. You can’t analyze it like you do everything else. You just have to feel it.” 

“That’s stupid,” Adam mutters, rather petulantly.

Blue laughs, amused. “Well, love is stupid.” 

“Blue, that’s terrible.” 

“It’s also true.” 

Adam groans and drags a hand over his face. “This is insufferable. I’ve tried so many methods and none of them are making it any clearer.” 

Blue narrows her eyes. “What do you mean _methods_?”

Adam flushes. “Well, I’ve, you know, done some, uh, research. Made some… lists, and stuff.” 

“ _Research?”_

“Don’t say it like that.” 

“Like what? Like it’s absurd to do research and make lists to figure out if you’re in love? Because it is.”

“I have to. I have to define it and—“

“You can’t _define_ love,” Blue says, exasperated.

“Well I’m going to do it anyways,” Adam shoots back, stubborn as always. “Gansey said that… that he knows he loves you because you make him quiet. Like Henrietta.” 

At that, Blue turns a little pink and there’s a pleased smile on her face. “What about you? Does Ronan make you quiet?” 

“Yes,” Adam says immediately. He remembers the morning after their kisses at the Barns, when Adam had felt nothing but absolute quiet, had felt so still inside. “But it can’t be that simple.”

Blue seems to be getting impatient. “I don’t know what else to tell you. You’re overthinking it.”

Adam is silent for a bit, before he says, hesitantly, “I don’t know, I’m not sure if I can even… I mean, maybe I’m just not…” _Made for it. Genetically cut out for it. Capable of feeling it._

He does not understand anything. 

“Just not what?” 

Adam runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Nevermind. It’s not important. I really need to get going.” 

“Okay,” Blue says, still sounding wary. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Blue.”

Blue kisses his cheek before she leaving the car to go back into Nino’s. 

When Adam reaches St. Agnes after work that night, he goes over the list he made. He had looked up a bunch of articles online on how to know if you’re in love, and most of them were pretty ridiculous and cliché. Still, he tried to follow the ones that seemed a little more trustworthy. One of them suggested that he make a list of things that your significant other makes you feel, and so he tried that. Adam stares at the wrinkled paper, his jagged handwriting nearly illegible. 

_LOVE?_

  * _He makes me happy._
  * _He makes me quiet, like the Barns._
  * _I would do anything for him._
  * _He’s my best friend._
  * _Being around him makes everything better._
  * _I feel safe with him._
  * _He feels like home._
  * _I can be myself around him._
  * _He understands me better than anyone._
  * _Just one kiss or touch or smile from him makes my heart race._
  * _I miss him when we spend even a little bit of time apart._
  * _When I think of my future, he’s always in it._



And so on. It was probably the most embarrassing thing he had ever put down on paper, ever. His face was a tomato the entire time he worked on it, and every few minutes he’d get the urge to just rip it apart and throw it in the trash. He also thinks about the fact that if Ronan – or anyone, really – ever laid sights on this piece of paper he would probably disappear off the face of the earth from mortification, so he intends to get rid of it as soon as it does its job.

Still, it’s a relief to get things down on paper, to have his feelings put in a tangible form. Words are concrete, final, something he can sift through and analyze. 

Three hours later, though, Adam still has no idea how he feels. He knows that these things are true, but do all these disparate feelings add up to love? He knows what Blue or Gansey would say: _love isn’t a math equation, Adam_. But Adam has never learned another way to solve his problems.

The thing is, Adam knows that he is capable of love to some extent. After all, didn’t he love Cabeswater with an intensity that was painful? Doesn’t he love Opal with a purity and simplicity that he doesn’t even have to think about?

But loving Ronan Lynch is different. It is anything but simple. 

And maybe the more important thing for Adam to consider is whether his can possibly be the right kind of love, the kind of love that Ronan deserves. 

His version love is surely a damaged, corrupt thing, much like himself, much like the dirt he grew up in.

Adam isn’t remotely religious, but as he looks up what the Bible says about love, it certainly makes sense to Adam that that is what love _should_ be. Ronan probably wants this kind of love, and he definitely gives this kind of love to others.

_Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres._

Adam has never learned to be patient or kind. He is as jealous and prideful as they come. He is selfish and his anger runs so deep inside him that he’s afraid it’s lodged there permanently, ready to burst out at any given moment.

That last part, though, Adam thinks he is capable of.

He can’t imagine a day where he won’t be willing to protect Ronan with his last breath, a time when he doesn’t trust Ronan with every part of himself. 

He knows that he won’t ever let go, won’t ever stop fighting for this thing between them. He’ll always keep hope in the palm of his hand as long as Ronan is with him. He knows their relationship isn’t fragile, can’t be easily broken, will always persevere if he has anything to say about it. 

And that has to count for something.

 

*

 

The next night, Blue drops Opal off at St. Agnes in a panic. Orla was supposed to hang out with her and give her a makeover, but she decided to go out on a date last minute instead, and no one else was free to take care of Opal.

“Sorry,” Blue says for the third time. “Orla is being a jerk, and if Ronan finds out that she canceled on Opal, he’ll probably never let her stay at Fox Way again.” 

Adam knows that isn’t true, because Opal loves Fox Way and would throw a fit if anyone tried to keep her away from there. 

He shakes his head at Blue. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t mind,” Adam assures her, smiling as he looks down at Opal hugging his arm.

“Don’t you have a shift at the garage soon, though?”

“Yeah, but she’s come with me to work a couple times before. It’s fine.”

After Blue leaves, Opal plops down on the mattress and starts chewing on one of Adam’s wooden pencils. Adam takes it from her mouth in alarm; He still doesn’t know if she has internal organs, but accidentally swallowing lead can’t be good for her regardless.

Opal glares at him, upset at having something taken away from her by Adam, of all people. Adam is usually a lot less strict with her than Ronan is.

Adam shrugs, sitting down next to her. “Sorry, but chewing on pencils is dangerous.”

Opal huffs, looking away from him and folding her arms petulantly. Her pissed off expression reminds him so much of Ronan that he starts laughing.

“What?” Opal snaps, sounding even more like Ronan.

Adam grins at her. “Nothing, just…”

Opal waits, raising one eyebrow up to her hairline, looking eerily like Blue for a moment.

Adam ruffles her hair fondly. “I love you, Opal, you know that?” He stutters a little as he says the words, still not used to the feel of them on his tongue.

Opal breaks into a bright smile, and nods furiously. She sidles closer to Adam and kisses his cheek, and he puts an arm around her as she leans her head on his shoulder.

They sit like that, for a while, until Adam tentatively breaks the silence. “Opal?”

Opal lifts her head and looks at him.

“You said you love me, right?” For a small moment, Adam is afraid that she’s going to deny it, that of course she doesn’t love him, that no one could possibly—

Instead, Opal nods and smiles again, taking his palm in her tiny hands and kissing it. Adam’s heart is a riot of relief and elation and _love_.

“And you love Ronan, too?”

She makes a face at that, nodding reluctantly, like, _yes, I do, but I’m not happy about it_.

Adam has to stifle another laugh. Then, taking a deep breath, he asks, “But how do you know that you love him? Or that you love me?”

Adam knows her answer probably won’t help, because her love is different, is simpler. But he asks anyways.

Opal just stares at him, scrunching in eyebrows in confusion. She lifts one shoulder, shrugging as if to say, _How the hell would I know?_

Adam sighs. Right, the other reason her answer won’t help. He supposes he truly has reached rock bottom if he’s asking an eight year old for love advice, even if that eight year old is wise beyond her years.

Adam chews on his lip, wringing his hands anxiously, unable to stop himself from asking one last thing. “Do you think he loves me?”

At that, she gives Adam the most judgmental look he has ever seen in his life. An expression, he thinks, that she might very well have learned from him.

Adam winces, feeling absurdly chastened. “Right. Stupid question.”

Opal gives him another look. _Damn right it’s a stupid question_.

Adam checks the time, partially to avoid Opal’s withering stare. “We should leave for the garage. My shift starts soon.” He pauses and risks a glance at the hooved girl. “Don’t tell Ronan about this conversation, okay?”

She rolls her eyes. _As if_. _Who do you think I am?_

 

*

 

When Adam arrives at the Barns two days later, Ronan and Opal are running around in the fields in front of the house.

“Adam!” Opal exclaims when she spots him, overly excited to see him as usual. She runs over to him and launches himself at his legs, and Adam laughs and crouches down to hug her properly. She clings to him tightly until Ronan has to walk over and physically pry her off of him. 

Opal screeches in Ronan’s face and Ronan glares back, muttering, “She gets her clinginess and her bad attitude from you, Parrish.”

Adam stands up and deadpans, “Yeah, because your attitude is so stellar and respectful.” He doesn’t bother to deny the clingy accusation.

“Damn right it is,” Ronan replies, lips quirking as he takes Adam in. 

Adam studies him, trying to figure out if there’s any lingering tension from that day at Nino’s. They haven’t really seen each other since and he hopes Ronan didn’t take Adam’s instinctive reaction to heart.

Adam steps closer and takes Ronan’s hands, lacing their fingers together.

“Hey,” Adam says, soft. He leans in to kiss him, and Ronan’s arms immediately wrap around his waist, pulling him flush against his body.

“Gross,” Opal complains, and runs inside before Ronan can bite out his retort. Adam laughs lightly and shakes his head before kissing Ronan again, harder this time.

Ronan gasps when Adam’s teeth graze his lips, fingers tightening around Adam’s hip.

“So,” Ronan pants, breathing unevenly as Adam sloppily kisses his throat, “Didn’t feel like joining Dick, Jane, and their third wheel at Monmouth after all?” 

Adam pulls back and looks into Ronan’s eyes. “Nope,” Adam says easily, arms twining around Ronan’s neck. “You get me all to yourself this weekend.”

“Lucky me,” Ronan drawls, tone sarcastic. 

Adam raises an unimpressed brow. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you haven’t been looking forward to this for days.” 

“What gave you that idea?”

Adam shrugs and takes a step back. “Guess I should get back in my car and drive to Monmouth, then.”

Ronan pulls him forward again. “Don’t you fucking dare, Parrish.” 

Adam grins. “Or what?” 

Ronan kisses him in response, and then his hands travel underneath Adam’s t-shirt and his fingertips lightly graze a spot on Adam’s stomach that makes him break off in a breathy giggle.

“Ronan, _no_ ,” Adam gasps as he realizes Ronan’s intent.

Ronan smirks, sharp and dangerous, and then his hands are full on tickling him, and they fall to the grass with Ronan on top of him and Adam breathing out child-like laughs that leave him feeling lighter. 

“ _Ronan_ ,” Adam wheezes, writhing beneath the other boy, “Stop, fuck, I—I hate you.”

“Sure you do,” Ronan says, and then continues his attack for a few more endless seconds before he settles down.

Adam’s face is broken into a large smile as he looks up at Ronan, both of them slightly breathless from laughing. Ronan leans down and kisses Adam, one of his hands cupping Adam’s cheek and the other caressing his ribs – without malicious intent, this time. Adam sighs into the kiss and twists his fingers in Ronan’s black tank.

When they finally pull away, what seems like ages later, Adam simply stares at Ronan, taking in the sharp angles of his face, the curve of his mouth, his long eyelashes over light blue eyes. 

Ronan notices and quips, “See something you like, Parrish?”

Adam meets his eyes and simply says, “Yeah, I do, actually.” 

Ronan raises his eyebrows in surprise and asks, voice smug, “And what’s that?” 

Adam brings his hands up and lightly traces Ronan’s cheekbones, his jaw. “I was just thinkin’… you sure are pretty.” It’s partially a joke but mostly it’s not. His voice is soft and his accent is thick, with pretty coming out like _priddy_.

Ronan startles at Adam’s words, a light blush gracing his cheeks, which only serves to make him look prettier. “Shut the fuck up, Parrish.”

“You are,” Adam says, earnestly. “Really pretty. It’s kind of annoying, actually.” 

Ronan rolls his eyes in an attempt at nonchalance. “Nerd.” 

Adam shoots him a withering look. “So, what, you can call me beautiful all the time but I can’t call you pretty?” 

Ronan opens his mouth, but swallows his words as he realizes that he can’t deny the fact that he calls Adam beautiful. “Nope. You can call me hot or sexy, though.”

“Nah. I much prefer pretty, or beautiful, or cute, or adorable, or—“ 

Ronan shuts him up with a kiss, and then says, “Jeez, don’t Gansey out on me, Parrish.”

“ _Gansey out?_ ”

“Yeah. You know, like—“ And then Ronan starts to do the most absurdly exaggerated impressions of Gansey’s voice trying to be romantic towards Blue.

Adam is sure that even Gansey has never said anything nearly as absurdly awful, but by the end of Ronan’s parody Adam is laughing so hard that he starts hiccupping. His hiccups are tiny, squeaky things that leave him red faced, and then Ronan is the one who can’t stop laughing.

“I hate – _hic_ – you,” Adam says, glaring at Ronan, made entirely ineffective by his hiccups and the underlying fondness in his tone.

Ronan grins and kisses Adam’s jaw. “You’ve said that already.” 

“Well, I do. A – _hic –_ lot.”

“Do you? You did just call me _pretty_.” 

“So? Lots of people I hate are pretty. Tad Carruthers, for example—“ 

“Oh, you are dead to me, Parrish. I can’t believe you compared me to _Carruthers_.” 

“Well, you compared me to Gansey! That’s just as bad, if not worse.”

Ronan considers this. “Fair point.” 

After minutes of more kissing, in which Adam has to break off in frustration multiple times because he can’t stop hiccupping, they stand up and make their way inside. Adam launches himself at Ronan’s back halfway through, at which Ronan lets out an annoyed sound. 

“What are you doing?”

“Lift me up.”

“You want me to give you a piggyback ride? Christ, Opal has rubbed off on you too.” 

“Just do it, Lynch. My legs are hurting from work.” 

“Sure they are.” But Ronan complies soon after. As they’re climbing up the stairs to Ronan’s bedroom, Adam starts kissing Ronan’s neck, and Ronan lets out a strangled sound. 

“Do you want me to fucking drop you?” Ronan snarls. 

Adam grins, lips brushing over Ronan’s ear as he leans forward. “Am I that distracting, Lynch?” 

“Fuck you,” Ronan replies, voice strained. 

They make it to the bed without incident, and soon they’re making out furiously, Ronan on top of Adam, Adam gasping and clutching Ronan’s shoulders as the other boy is mouthing at his neck. 

When they finally break away, Ronan looks down at Adam and asks, “How long are you staying? I mean, if you’re going back tomorrow—“ 

“I’m not. I told you, I’m here for the weekend. I’ll only leave for work. And I’ll drive back to St. Agnes Monday morning before school.”

“Oh. Good.” Ronan keeps his expression neutral, but Adam can tell how elated he is. Adam hasn’t yet stayed for more than two nights in a row, and he always went back to St. Agnes in between.

“So, I meant to tell you, I’ve narrowed down my college options to two choices.”

He’d gotten the rest of his acceptances back: full rides to Brown, Dartmouth, UPenn, and Princeton, but Harvard was giving him about as much as Yale and MIT.

“Parrish, I probably shouldn’t—“ 

“I’m not asking you to make a decision for me, dumbass. I’m just letting you know. It’s between Princeton and Columbia.” 

Ronan absently combs his fingers through the hair on Adam’s forehead. “Princeton is five hours away. Columbia is six.”

“Yeah. The only school closer is UPenn.” 

Ronan’s expression turns complicated. “That isn’t the reason you’re picking between those two, is it?” 

“Oh, shut up, no. Don’t be so egotistical. I narrowed them down after doing research and making pro-con lists.” Adam doesn’t mention that the distance from the Barns was one of the items on those lists. 

“Okay, so, what are you thinking?” 

“I don’t know. Princeton might be the better option for me academically, but only marginally. And I’ve always wanted to live in New York City.”

“You’d like it there. We used to take family trips up to Manhattan when I was young.”

This is news to Adam. “Really?” 

Ronan nods. “They were fun. We’d walk around Central Park, and Matthew and I would imitate all the animals at the zoo. Mom and Dad would both pretend like it was annoying and yell at us to stop, but we knew they secretly found it cute as fuck.” His voice is wistful and sad, and Adam strokes Ronan’s cheek in silent comfort.

“You know,” Adam muses after a few moments, “Wherever I end up going, we’re going to have a really hard time in the dorms if you don’t learn to keep your volume down.” 

“I thought you like it when I’m loud,” Ronan says, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. 

“I do,” Adam agrees. “The people in my dorm definitely will not.” 

Ronan looks unconcerned. “They’ll deal with it. The bigger problem is how we’ll get rid of your lame ass roommate.”

“You don’t even know who it’s going to be. How do you know he’ll be lame?” 

“I just know,” Ronan says nonsensically. “I hate him already.” 

“Why? Jealous that he’ll be sleeping in the bed next to mine for months on end?” 

Ronan eyes darken. “Don’t remind me, Parrish. He better watch out, or I’ll get Chainsaw to peck his eyes out.” 

“You’re insane,” Adam says, fondness inevitably creeping into his voice.

“What can I say? You make me crazy.” Ronan’s voice is no longer joking, but soft and low and serious, his eyes boring into Adam, seeing every part of him.

Adam swallows, Ronan’s words and voice and expression undoing him. The three words are right there. They’re _right there_ and Adam needs to get them out. 

“Ronan?” Adam’s throat is dry. His pulse is thundering. He can’t breathe. 

“Yeah?” Ronan is looking at him with such tenderness that Adam almost can’t bear it.

Adam thinks, _I still have to finish my list. I don’t have enough information to form a conclusion. I have to analyze the results. I have to be sure._

He thinks, _What if I can’t love the way you deserve to be loved? What if my version of love is a broken and twisted thing? What if I break you?_

He thinks, _I love you so much._

He takes a deep breath, then another. 

Adam says, “I love you.” It comes out thick, a little watery, a little hoarse. Adam is surprised that he managed to get it out at all. 

Ronan freezes at the words. His eyes are wide, staring at Adam with disbelief, and he opens his mouth to say something, but can’t seem to get any words out. He swallows audibly.

Seconds go by, and Ronan still says nothing, and Adam knows, he just _knows_ , that he fucked it up, that somehow the words came out wrong, that they were ruined simply by the fact that they were uttered by someone like Adam, because how could a twisted thing like him ever, truly— 

But, no. Even if his love is impure, corrupt, base, Adam knows it’s _there_. Because how could it not be? This overwhelming thing inside of him can’t be anything but love. He had thought not so long ago that he wasn’t capable of love, but now it feels like he’s overflowing with it. Sometimes it’s so _much_ that Adam is afraid it will consume him from inside out. And he needs Ronan to know this. He thinks he understands something, finally. 

So Adam tries again, voice shaking, “Ronan, I love you.”

Ronan swallows again and then kisses Adam roughly, deeply. Adam feels the kiss all over his body. His hands come up to the back of Ronan’s scalp. 

“Jesus,” Ronan says hoarsely when he pulls back, “I—Fuck, Adam. I love you too. Of course I fucking do.” 

Adam sucks in a breath. He can feel the tears build up behind his eyes.

All he can manage is a small, quiet, “Oh.” 

Ronan looks incredulous. “ _Oh?_ Tell me you aren’t surprised by that, Parrish.” 

Adam shakes his head. “I’m not, I just… I don’t know.”

He doesn’t know what he’d been expecting, exactly. He’d known that Ronan loves him on a technical, purely logical level. It was a fact, the way _Adam Parrish has dusty brown hair and blue eyes_ was a fact. Ronan had shown his love through actions over and over and over again. Adam had known, he had known, but he hadn’t really _believed_ it until this very moment.

Adam closes his eyes, and he feels the tears slip out. Ronan’s thumb gently wipes away the tears trailing down his cheeks. He feels both hollow and full inside. He doesn’t know if the ache inside him is happiness or sadness. Maybe it’s both. 

“Adam?” Ronan’s voice is gentle and concerned. Adam opens his eyes, and blue meets blue. Tears are still rolling freely down Adam’s cheeks, and soon enough both of them stop trying to wipe them away. 

Adam tries and fails to make his voice sound normal. “I knew, but I… I don’t know if I truly believed it until… it’s just… different actually hearing it, I guess. I mean it’s only the second time I’ve ever—“ He breaks off, inhales sharply, eyes burning. He remembers the day Opal had told him in her tiny voice, _Te amo. I love you, Adam._ He remembers the way she’d smiled at him and kissed his cheek yesterday.

Ronan’s expression turns complicated. “I should have—shit. I should have said it sooner. I’m sorry.” 

Adam shakes his head aggressively. “Don’t be. It’s not like you didn’t show it. I still knew. You’re not good with words, I get it.” 

“No, I’m really not,” Ronan agrees, voice low. “But that doesn’t mean that you didn’t need to hear it.” 

Adam opens his mouth to argue, but finds that he can’t.

Because it wasn’t just his father’s physical blows that told Adam Parrish over and over again that he was unloved. It was his words, too. It was his father saying, _you useless, worthless piece of shit,_ his mother telling him, _it was a little bit your fault, wasn’t it? Why do you always make things so hard, Adam?_

So maybe it only makes sense that his wounds need both actions and words to heal.

Ronan kisses from his jaw to his right ear, whispering, “I’ve been in love with you for so long. And you—you deserve to hear it. You deserve to know, without a fucking doubt.” 

Adam’s world tilts a little. “How long?”

“I didn’t mark it on my fucking calendar, Parrish.” Adam just stares at him in response. Ronan grunts and continues, “I don’t know, man. A year and a half at least.”

Adam blinks rapidly. “You—that long?”

“I thought you knew.”

Adam had known that Ronan liked him for a long, long time, but to know without a doubt that Ronan had been _in love_ with him for that long is a different matter entirely. The knowledge lodges itself deep inside Adam’s heart, creating a loud riot in his chest.

“God,” Adam says, the only word he can manage at the moment, laughing thickly.

Ronan kisses his cheekbone, his temple, the corner of his mouth. “I love you,” he murmurs against Adam’s lips. “So fucking much.”

Adam shivers and closes his eyes again. He’s mostly done crying, but there are still a few tears waiting to be let out. “I kept thinking… for so long, I was trying to figure it out. When to say it. How to make sure I felt it. I asked Gansey, after we first kissed, how he knew he loved Blue. He said that… she made him quiet. I didn’t believe him, back then. I didn’t think it could be that simple.”

“I still don’t know if it’s that simple,” Adam goes on, finally opening his eyes. “But I know that I felt… so quiet and… and still inside, that next morning. So maybe I knew even then that I loved you, but I kept picking it apart and second guessing myself and—I know I can’t… I can’t give you the kind of love you deserve, because… I’m not capable of it the way you are, of loving the way you do. But I still… I love you, Ronan.” His voice cracks at the end.

Ronan is frowning, suddenly. “What do you mean you’re not capable of loving the way I do?”

Adam shifts uncomfortably. “I just—you know. I’m _me._ ”

“So?”

“So I don’t—I’m not you. Jesus, all you _do_ is love and give people your heart on a fucking platter and I’m not—I can’t do that. And it’s not like I grew up the way you did. I can’t—“

“Adam, you’re nothing like your fucking parents.”

Adam avoids Ronan’s eyes. “I wouldn’t say I’m _nothing_ like them,” Adam says quietly.

“You’re _nothing_ like them,” Ronan argues fiercely. “And you’re not any less capable of loving than me or—or Gansey or Blue or Opal or anyone.”

Adam kisses him before he can continue, not wanting to have this conversation right now. Ronan feebly attempts to break away, but Adam keeps pulling him back, and so Ronan gives up, just kissing him back with an intensity that leaves Adam breathless.

Soon they’re both out of their shirts, and Adam shudders as Ronan charts his neck, even more gently than usual, caressing him all over with his hands and his mouth. Adam tries to undo Ronan’s jeans and flip them over, but Ronan resists.

“What?” Adam asks, exasperated. “I was going to blow you.”

“Too bad. It’s my turn.”

Adam stares up at him. “Am I bad it or something?”

Ronan’s expression turns incredulous. “ _What?_ ”

“Well, I just—you hardly ever let me do it!”

Ronan huffs. “You are most definitely not bad at it, Jesus. You’re… God, Parrish, your mouth…” Ronan swallows, throat going dry.

Adam grins. “That good?”

“Shut up. Firstly, your hands are as good as your mouth to me—

“Ah, right,” Adam says, amused. “Your hand fetish.”

“Fuck you. My point is, more importantly, that I _like_ blowing you.” Ronan kisses down his chest and then mouths over the bulge in Adam’s jeans, making Adam gasp. “No, I _love_ blowing you.”

Adam lifts his hips so Ronan can take off his jeans and underwear, feeling a little delirious.

“I love the way you taste,” Ronan murmurs as he licks and sucks on the skin below Adam’s navel, and Adam makes a keening sound. “And the way you sound when my mouth is around you.” Adam clutches at Ronan’s shoulders, digging in his nails hard enough that he must draw blood, unable to contain more embarrassing noises with the way Ronan’s mouth and Ronan’s words are undoing him.

Just before Ronan takes him into his mouth, lips brushing the length of him, Ronan says, voice soft and low, “I love you, Adam.” When he finally does it, Adam chokes out Ronan’s name and arches up into him. Adam almost apologizes, but swallows down the words when he remembers that Ronan likes that, likes it when he fucks into his mouth. So he does just that, being considerably louder than usual.

With his hands, Ronan traces patterns on Adam’s ribs, and that action is somehow far more intimate than anything else. Adam takes one of his hands and laces their fingers together. Ronan looks up at Adam through hooded eyes and makes a noise in the back of his throat, and the vibration unspools Adam that much quicker.

“God _,_ Ronan.” Ronan goes faster, adding his other hand into the mix. “ _Shit,_ Ronan, Ronan, _please_ , I need—“ Adam babbles nonsensically as he gets closer, and when Ronan flicks his tongue and moans around him, Adam is done for. He finishes with loud groan of Ronan’s name, squeezing Ronan’s hand tightly, his mind full of white, fuzzy light. He must zone out for a while, because when he comes back to himself, he’s tucked in and Ronan is lazily kissing his neck.

“Ronan, _fuck_ ,” Adam rasps. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Ronan laughs lightly as he noses under Adam’s collarbone. “Don’t think _you’ve_ ever swore this much while we did this. I’m guessing it was good?”

Adam is still trying to catch his breath. “ _Good?_ That was… fuck. That was amazing. That was—Jesus. Shit. I love you.”

Adam feels Ronan grin against his chest as he kisses further down.

“God, come _here_ , you asshole,” Adam pants, needing to feel Ronan’s lips against his.

Ronan looks up through his lashes and smirks. ‘Why?”

Adam leans up on his elbows and glares. “Shut up and just fucking kiss me.”

When Ronan does, Adam kisses him desperately and deeply, fingers holding the back of his head and neck, tongue licking and teeth biting.

When they break apart, they’re both breathing hard. Adam looks at Ronan - his eyelashes, his sharp cheekbones, his thin mouth – and then his fingers follow his eyes as he traces every inch of Ronan’s beautiful face.

“What’s that look for, Parrish?”

Adam bites his lip, unsure how to phrase his thoughts. “I just… I never thought… I never thought I’d get to have this, you know?”

Ronan’s expression softens, and he nudges Adam’s nose with his before taking one of his hands and bringing Adam’s fingers to his mouth. After tenderly kissing his knuckles, he admits, “Me either.”

Adam lets him kiss his hand thoroughly for a few more moments before he adds, “And I don’t mean just you, either. I mean… _this_. What we have. I never thought I’d have anything like this with anyone, and it’s… scary, sometimes. Like…” Adam swallows, averting his gaze and lowering his voice to a whisper, his next words making him feel too exposed and vulnerable. “Sometimes I love you so much it feels like I’m drowning in it.”

Ronan sucks in a breath, says nothing for one, two, three seconds, and then he kisses Adam, brief, rough, before resting his forehead against Adam’s and muttering, “Fuck.”

Adam gulps; everything is too much and he feels like he’s underwater.

Then he smiles crookedly, breaking the tension with his next words. “You know, you might have been right. Calling each other pretty and declaring our love over and over again? Maybe we _are_ turning into Blue and Gansey.”

Ronan makes a face. “Don’t, Parrish. We’re not that bad yet.”

“We’ll get there.”

Ronan groans. “ _Stop_. I don’t want to think about it.”

Adam laughs loudly. “It’s okay. We’ll never be quite as embarrassing as them.”

“No one can be as embarrassing as them. Not even the worst straight people can compete with those cheesy fucks. We’re fine.”

Adam hums in agreement, and they kiss lazily for a little bit until Ronan collapses back on the bed. They lay on their sides, and Adam presses his face into Ronan’s neck and breathes him in. He feels so senselessly happy.

“What else?” Adam asks quietly after a few moments.

“Hmm?”

“Well, you stated that you love blowing me.” Ronan snorts. “And you love my hands. What else?”

Ronan makes a face. “No way. We’re not doing this, Parrish.”

Adam raises his eyebrows. “Didn’t you just say that I deserved to hear it?”

Ronan opens his mouth to protest, then closes it in defeat, glaring at Adam all the while. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” Adam corrects.

“Seriously reconsidering that right now.”

“Sure you are.”

Ronan groans again. “Fine, you dick.”

“That’s Gansey,” Adam imitates, and then laughs when Ronan swats at him.

Ronan takes a deep breath and presses closer to Adam, so that Adam can’t see his face. “Your… freckles.”

Adam starts a little. “My _freckles_?” It shouldn’t be a surprise - Ronan had kissed the freckles all over Adam’s face often enough - but somehow, Adam is still surprised. He had always seen his freckles as something ugly, just more marks on his already scarred skin and more evidence of how much he worked in the blazing Henrietta sun. Certainly nothing to be loved.

Ronan sighs and pulls away a little, and then pushes at Adam so that he’s lying on his back and Ronan is hovering over him. He kisses the cluster of freckles on the top of Adam’s left cheekbone and murmurs, “Yeah, Parrish. Your freckles.”

“What else?” Adam’s voice is breathy.

Ronan’s lips move down to kiss the shell of his ear, and Adam shivers at the feeling of Ronan’s hot breath there. “Your stupid fucking accent.”

“My accent,” Adam repeats, dubious.

Ronan’s voice is casual, though Adam can see that his ears are flushed. “I like the way it sounds, okay?”

Adam grins, and lays his accent on thick. “I can’t believe you’re turned on by my _accent_.”

“ _I_ can’t believe you didn’t notice. I wasn’t exactly subtle about it.”

Adam is about to deny it, but then he remembers all the times Ronan’s eyes had darkened when his accent was particularly strong. He really _should_ have noticed sooner, especially as someone who prided himself on being observant, but the thought was so unfathomable to him that it didn’t quite register in his mind as a possibility. His Henrietta accent had always been a source of shame, something to hide and clip, something that was an object of ridicule and contempt.

Not to Ronan, though. Never to Ronan.

Even when Ronan did a typical impersonation of his accent in an exaggerated, high-pitched voice, Adam had figured out that it wasn’t meant to be cruel, the way it would if it were someone else doing it.

“No,” Adam says finally, voice a little uneven. “I guess you weren’t.”

“So, am I free of this torture now, or are you going to make me embarrass myself further?”

“Please,” Adam huffs. “You’ve barely even started. Keep going. Preferably until you have no dignity left.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.”

“I know.”

Ronan pulls back and glares at Adam, looking annoyed. “No, I mean… that’s a thing. That I love. You’re such a shithead.”

Adam’s lips quirk. “You like when I’m an asshole?”

Ronan grimaces. “I’m really going to regret this. But yes, Parrish. And when you’re angry. God, you’re fucking hot when you’re angry.”

Something in Adam twists unpleasantly. “You like it when I’m _angry?_ ” Adam demands, suddenly just that. “What, do our fights get you off or something? That’s fucked up, Ronan.” He doesn’t know why the idea upsets him so much. It’s not like he himself hasn’t gotten turned on by an angry Ronan, hasn’t sucked bruises on his pale skin immediately after an ugly fight.

“No, that’s not what—I just mean, like—,” Ronan breaks off and groans, frustrated.

“Use your words.”

Ronan scowls at him. “I’m _trying_.”

“Well, try harder,” Adam snaps, feeling his temper rise for no discernable reason.

“Fuck you. What I _mean_ is, you never fucking back down. From me or from anyone. I mean, Christ, a few months ago when you ripped Tad a new one? And then last week when you exploded at Gansey and put him in his place?” Ronan grins at the memories. “That was top notch, Parrish.”

“Stop. I really don’t want to hear this,” Adam interrupts. “Get off of me.”

Ronan does immediately, rolling onto his elbows and staring at Adam in confusion as he sits up, moving away from Ronan. “What is your problem, man?”

Adam presses the heels of his palms to his eyes, breathing in and out. “My anger isn’t a good thing,” Adam says finally, voice tight. “Don’t tell me it’s a good thing. Don’t do that.”

Because isn’t this the very thing Adam had tried so hard to avoid? _Don’t fight with Blue, don’t fight with Gansey._ Adam doesn’t feel nearly as much like a monster when he fights with Ronan, it’s true; Not only does Ronan meet Adam’s anger with his own, but Ronan also doesn’t see him as a thing to be feared and tiptoed around, and Adam is eternally grateful for it. But there are times even around Ronan when the force of his own anger frightens him.

The freckles and accent was one thing, but this is too much. Because here Ronan is, finding the ugliest, most shameful parts of Adam, the parts that Adam has spent so long trying to repress and bury as deep as they could go, and telling him that they’re beautiful. Adam cannot stand it.

Adam hears the sheets ruffle as Ronan moves closer, and then Ronan is gently prying Adam’s hands away from his face. Adam has to turn away from the understanding expression Ronan is wearing.

“Your anger isn’t the same as his, Adam,” Ronan says.

Adam tenses but stays silent.

“Adam.”

Adam closes his eyes. _You’re not him you’re not him you’re not him_. He’s told himself this over and over again. Most days, he even believes it. Others, it’s more complicated.

“Adam. You’re. Not. Him. You never will be.”

“I know,” Adam whispers. And he does. It’s another fact, like _Adam Parrish grew up in a trailer._ Why, then, did facts sometimes feel so subjective?

Adam feels an arm snake around his shoulders, feels lips tenderly kiss his eyelids.

“I know,” Adam says again, firmer, this time, opening his eyes.

Ronan is looking at him, expression open. “Do you want me to go on with my list? Because I can.”

Adam smiles thinly and shakes his head.

“Well, it’s probably for the best, because if I listed everything I love about you we’d be here forever. Probably until we started decaying.”

Adam ducks his head, his ears feeling hot. “Shut up, you sap.”

Ronan kisses the side of his neck, and Adam’s eyes flutter close again. “Seriously, the list is endless. I can write you a fucking poem about it. Or a sonnet. Or a song. I’ll even sing it while playing my bagpipes, if you want.”

Adam feels himself smile automatically. “Will you wear a kilt, too?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Parrish.”

Adam laughs lightly, staring at Ronan with something like awe. An overwhelming gratitude fills him, consumes him.

“Thank you,” Adam says quietly.

Ronan kisses the corner of his mouth, murmuring, “Come on. Let’s get some sleep, and then we can forget this embarrassing evening ever happened.”

“Fat chance. I’m never letting you live this down. And I’m holding you to that bagpipe offer.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

Adam falls asleep with Ronan’s arms wrapped tight around him, feeling lighter and safer and more _loved_ than ever before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, a few things:  
> 1\. The part with Adam calling Ronan pretty was inspired by [this beautiful post](http://starsandgutters.co.vu/post/151441517468).  
> 2\. Adam receives his college acceptances in 2013 and I feel like by that point they came by email, not as physical letters, but oh well. Also, I'm not sure how the financial aid stuff works, if Adam would get the info about his scholarship along with his acceptance letter, but let's pretend my version is accurate.  
> 3\. This chapter shows my personal bias against Adam going to a west coast school. Not necessarily because it's so far away from the Barns, but because the west coast is godless and my son deserves better. Sorry, Stanford and Caltech.  
> 4\. The "you looked it up" part is, you guessed it, another Gilmore Girls reference. I'll be imagining Pynch as Literati forever (If anyone is interested, I sort of wrote a whole fic based on that concept: [Ronan and Adam: The Early Years](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6584671)).  
> 5\. There were a couple other scenes I wanted to add in this chapter, but it was already getting really long, so I'm saving them for the next chapter. Which, by the way, will be 90% smut. You can probably guess what's coming.


	15. fire and sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan Lynch believes that there aren’t words to describe most of the complicated and powerful emotions that he feels on a daily basis, but there especially aren’t words in any language to describe what this does to him: Adam on top of him, taking control, pushing him around, against the bed or the wall or the door or even against the cold, hard ground, that single-minded, hungry look in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time I was just an innocent girl who had never written smut in her life and never planned to...... and then Pynch happened. This chapter is pretty explicit fair warning. I finished this so quickly, apparently smut is a motivator for me? Who knew. That being said I did kind of rush through it so it's probably not the best quality. Also, that one shower scene is all bc of [aulesbian](http://archiveofourown.org/users/aulesbian). Dedicated to her.

They do not, in fact, get to spend the whole weekend alone.

Ronan wakes up on Saturday morning with a large post it stuck on his forehead that says _I have an early shift and I didn’t want to wake you. I’ll be back around 2._ Then, there are scribbles of words that are crossed out so thoroughly that Ronan can’t make out what it said, before the note ends with a _Love you. - Adam._

It’s as if Adam had tried out a bunch of different ways to end the note before settling on _love you_. Ronan’s heart skips, stutters, starts again, and he can’t help the dopey smile that cuts his face.

He is counting down the minutes to when Adam will come back from work when he receives a text from Gansey, telling him that Adam agreed to hang out at Monmouth after work for a bit and that Ronan should join them.

Ronan groans in annoyance, feeling almost betrayed. Still, his need to see Adam as soon as possible overwhelms all other emotions, and then he’s driving to Monmouth with Opal only minutes after receiving the text.

When he arrives at the warehouse, Gansey, Henry, and Blue are lounging on the couch and floor. He sprawls across the couch, resting his legs on Blue’s lap. Blue gives him a searching look, and he just smiles at her in return. It’s hard for him to stop, smiling, for some reason.

“Asshole,” Blue greets fondly.

“Maggot,” Ronan says, just as fondly. He nods at the other two. “Gansey. Cheng.”

Gansey raises his eyebrows. “Ronan, are you alright?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Gansey studies him. “Something is different.”

Ronan shrugs, chewing his wristbands.

“He’s _smiling_ , that’s what’s different,” Blue says.

“Shut up, Sargent.”

“That was pathetic, Ronan,” Blue replies, grinning. “Didn’t sound mean at all. In fact, it almost sounded affectionate. Something definitely happened.”

Ronan glares at her. “Shut the _fuck_ up, maggot. Is that mean enough for you?”

“Nah. Still nicer than usual.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than psychoanalyze me?”

“Well, I certainly do,” Henry says, and goes back to discussing nerd shit with Gansey.

Blue moves closer to Ronan and whispers, “He told you, didn’t he?”

Ronan freezes. “Who told me what?”

Blue smirks. “He _did._ He told you. That’s why you’re so happy and gross.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ronan lies.

Blue isn’t fooled. “Mmhm. Whatever you say, Ronan.”

Ronan sucks in a breath before asking, “How the hell would you know anything about it, anyway?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Blue teases.

“Fucking spill it, you asshole.”

“Nope. It’s not mine to tell. What I _will_ say, though, is that your boyfriend overthinks everything.”

“Don’t I know it,” Ronan mutters.

“Regardless, I’m glad he got over himself and told you what’s been written all over his face for months now.”

Before Ronan can ask her to elaborate on that latter part, there’s a knock on the door and then Adam is walking into the room, looking positively ethereal in his work coveralls rolled down to his waist, hair messed up and face covered in grease. His eyes immediately find Ronan’s, and he breaks into the truest smile Ronan has ever seen from him. It’s impossible not to smile back.

It takes a whole ten seconds before someone clears their throat, alerting them to the fact that they’ve been staring and smiling at each other for far too long.

Adam flushes and walks over to the couch, which is being mostly taken up Blue and Ronan’s legs.

“Lynch. Move.”

Ronan is too busy admiring the freckles on Adam’s cheeks, and so it takes a moment for him to reply. He casually leans back on the armrest and drapes one arm over the back of the couch. “Sorry, Parrish. I’m comfortable over here.”

They have a staring contest that doesn’t last too long, because then Adam is shrugging and sprawling himself horizontally on top of Ronan, legs intertwined with is and the back of his head under Ronan’s chin. Ronan’s breath catches.

Blue raises an eyebrow and moves off the couch onto the floor. “Yeah, I’d rather not be a part of this passive aggressive cuddling session.”

“Not my fault that Lynch refused to move. I just did what I had to,” Adam drawls.

“Sure, Parrish,” Ronan says into Adam’s right ear, and feels pleased when Adam shivers. “It has nothing to do with you wanting to sit in my lap.”

“Not in front of the children, please,” Gansey says, wincing and putting his hands over Opal’s ears.

Opal just scoffs and shakes her head out of Gansey’s grip, saying in the most disdainful voice she can muster up, “I’m used to it. They’re gross all the time.”

“ _You’re_ gross all the time,” Ronan shoots back.

Adam laughs silently, turning his head to look at Ronan with an amused smile. Ronan’s gaze catches on that smile, on Adam’s full lips. “Mature, Lynch.”

“I’m always mature,” Ronan replies, his voice a little higher than he would prefer.

Adam rolls his eyes, and then leans forward to quickly kiss the corner of Ronan’s mouth before leaning back against Ronan’s chest. Ronan’s arms snake around Adam’s waist, one hand slipping beneath Adam’s white t-shirt to lightly graze the soft skin of his stomach.

“God, can you two get a room already,” Blue says, looking at them with a mixture of disgust and glee.

“Gladly,” Ronan declares, and then stares at Adam accusingly. “I don’t know why Parrish agreed to come here anyway. We were supposed to have a weekend without you assholes.”

“Maybe I got tired of your stupid face,” Adam says.

Ronan raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t seem that way last night.” Adam flushes a bright pink and glares at Ronan.

Henry makes a gagging noise and Blue scrunches up her face, muttering, “Too much information.”

Ronan isn’t even really referring to the sex part, but they don’t need to know that.

“Really, what is with you two today? You’re acting extra disgusting,” Gansey remarks.

“And by disgusting he means lovey dovey,” Henry adds unnecessarily.

“What both of them mean is that you two look especially happy,” Blue corrects, grinning at the two of them knowingly. “I wonder why.”

“None of your fucking business,” Ronan snaps, but his mind is full the tremble in Adam’s voice when he had said _I love you, Ronan_.

“It’s our business when you’re being all—“ Gansey gestures to them, indicating what exactly they’re being, “right in front of us. Did you get engaged or something?”

Henry whistles. “I knew it was only a matter of time before Lynch proposed.”

Both boys turn red and flip Gansey and Henry off in unison, which makes the other three burst into laughter.

Adam clears his throat and stands up, still blushing, holding out a hand to Ronan and eyes flitting towards Ronan’s room. “Come on.”

Ronan grins as the rest of them make their typical obnoxious comments, which Adam and Ronan promptly ignore. Once they’re in Ronan’s room and the door is closed behind him, Ronan starts towards the bed, but Adam pulls him back by his hand. Adam is leaning back against the door, looking at Ronan with sparkling eyes and that arrogant tilt to his chin.

Ronan’s mouth quirks as he moves closer, his hands clutching Adam’s waist. “Parrish.”

Adam smirks back. “Lynch.”

“I got your post-it.”

At that, Adam’s ears turn a pleasing shade of pink, and he ducks his head, unable to meet Ronan’s eyes. “Well, it would’ve been hard to miss, with the way I stuck it on your face and all.”

“True.” Ronan rubs circles into Adam’s shoulders and then slides his hands down to Adam’s, lacing their fingers together. Adam gives him a small, almost bashful smile, and Ronan’s heart stops and starts once again.

Ronan lets out a sigh and kisses Adam, soft and slow, and Adam melts into him effortlessly. When Ronan pulls back, Adam’s eyes are still closed and his lips are slightly parted. His expression is fractured, and when his eyes flutter open, the rawness is increased tenfold.

Ronan just looks at Adam, at his freckled, tan skin, his kiss-bruised lips, the messy hair falling over his deep blue eyes, and Adam looks back.

“Hey,” Adam says, hesitant and almost nervous. “I love you.”

The words come out a little shy, a lot scared. His expression is intense and fearful, eyes wide as if anticipating rejection. As if Ronan could ever not love Adam Parrish.

Ronan used to worry that Adam would never love him the same way, with the same intensity, that Ronan would be alone in his all consuming want for Adam Parrish. But now, looking at the hope and trepidation on Adam’s face, hearing the quiver in Adam’s soft voice, the worry starts to fade away.

Ronan never thought he’d put any real value in words. It was far too easy for people to lie, to never truly mean what they said. But he knows what words, especially these particular words, mean to Adam, and that makes all the difference in the world.

“Yeah,” Ronan replies casually. “The post-it informed me.”

Adam scoffs, but there’s a bit of wariness on his face. Ronan wants to make it go away.

“Hey,” Ronan says, voice quiet and sincere, now, “I love you, too.” Then, to keep up appearances, he adds, “Dumbass.”

Adam rolls his eyes, smiling reluctantly. “Do you now?” He murmurs, his fingers playing with the collar of Ronan’s shirt.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Real convincing, Ronan.”

“I’ll convince you later, when I play that song I wrote about you on my bagpipes.”

Adam grins. “See, I’d forgotten about that whole offer. I’m so glad you reminded me.”

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t let you forget, now, could I? How else would I win your heart with my showstopping romance?”

“Because bagpipes are the epitome of romance,” Adam replies drly. “You couldn’t have learned the violin or guitar or something?”

“The guitar? What am I, some fucking hipster? You want me to play Wonderwall for you?”

“I would’ve thought that you’d play the Murder Squash Song.” Adam grimaces. “Please don’t tell me you know how to play that monstrosity on the bagpipes.”

Ronan makes a delighted noise. “I don’t, but just for you, I’ll learn it.”

“God,” Adam says, laughing, and Ronan’s heart hurts with the way Adam’s eyes crinkle when he smiles wide. “I brought that on myself.”

“You really did,” Ronan agrees. Then, “So, when are we getting out of here?”

Adam gives him a look. “Ronan, we _just_ got here.”

Ronan scowls. “I thought we were supposed to spend this weekend alone.”

“Oh, relax. I think you can bear to share me with the others for a couple hours.”

“Wrong,” Ronan growls, attacking Adam’s neck with his lips, making him gasp, “I actually can’t. I need you all to myself.”

“Possessive,” Adam points out, though the smug tone he’s going for is ruined by how breathless he sounds.

They’re interrupted when Gansey yells through the door, “We’re going for some gelato. Do you two want to come?”

“Nope,” Ronan and Adam yell back.

When they hear the Monmouth door shut, Adam says, “So, now that we’re alone, I wonder what we should—“

Adam breaks off midway through his sentence as Ronan brings Adam’s knuckles to his mouth, kissing them with such care and attention that his teachers at Aglionby would never have thought him capable of. Adam watches Ronan intensely, letting out a shaky breath and closing his eyes when Ronan takes his thumb into his mouth.

“Ronan,” Adam breathes, sounding desperate, and Ronan looks up at his face through his lashes.

“Yes?” Ronan murmurs, now kissing along Adam’s jaw, making him sigh.

“Jesus,” Adam whispers, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Nope, still me,” Ronan says as he bites Adam’s earlobe.

Adam pulls Ronan’s hips flush against him, and they both groan at the friction.

“I just,” Adam pants, “I need—“

“What?” Ronan needs to hear him say it.

Adam opens his eyes, and the pure want in them takes Ronan’s breath away. “ _You._ ”

Ronan drops to his knees.

When he’s done, Adam’s face is flushed a deep pink and his lips are bleeding from how hard he bit them. Ronan kisses the cut on his lips and licks it with his tongue, wanting Adam’s blood in his mouth, wanting every part of Adam inside him. He thinks he might be going crazy.

“Fuck,” Adam says, and Ronan takes a moment to feel proud at making Adam look and sound this way.

The pride is short lived, however, because then Adam is knotting his hands in Ronan’s shirt and roughly pushing him towards the bed, shoving him onto the mattress and climbing over him, not caring to be gentle. _Good_.

Ronan Lynch believes that there aren’t words to describe most of the complicated and powerful emotions that he feels on a daily basis, but there _especially_ aren’t words in any language to describe what _this_ does to him: Adam on top of him, taking control, pushing him around, against the bed or the wall or the door or even against the cold, hard ground, that single-minded, hungry look in his eyes.

And _oh,_ now Adam is pinning his arms above his head, their fingers laced together, rubbing up against him, making Ronan hiss. Ronan tries to reach for Adam’s hair, but Adam holds Ronan’s wrists together more firmly, and for a brief moment, Ronan considers how much he’d like having his wrists tied like that sometime, being rendered powerless and completely at Adam’s mercy.

But at the moment, Ronan just wants to _touch_ Adam, and he lets out a pathetic whimper, not having it in himself to be embarrassed.

“No,” Adam growls in a hard voice, and _god_ , the things that voice is making Ronan think right now will have him confessing to his priest for hours. “Don’t move.”

Ronan nods shakily, letting Adam do whatever he wants. Ronan nearly regrets it, with the way his hands are still pinned above him and Adam is sucking bruises into his neck while grinding against him. Ronan swears even more than usual and he’s sure his hands are bleeding with how hard his nails are digging into his palms.

“Parrish,” Ronan chokes out, “Fucking— _Jesus—_ fucking _get on with it_ , you asshole.”

Adam looks up at him and smirks. “Patience, Lynch.”

“You’re full of shit.”

Adam laughs and then finally, _finally,_ lets go of his hands and travels down his body to the one place Ronan needs him.

After, they lay together, kissing unhurriedly.

“They should be back with Opal soon,” Adam says. “And then we can go back to the Barns.”

Ronan hums in agreement, pleased at the way Adam clearly wants to be at the Barns almost as much as he does. He stares at expanse of Adam's tanned chest, at the freckles and scars covering it. He brushes his fingers almost absentmindedly over them, his touch gentle and reverent. Adam squirms a little under Ronan's attention. 

Ronan frowns. "What's wrong?"

Adam shakes his head. "Nothing, I just..." He sighs. "Even after all this time, I'm still not used to it, sometimes. Being touched like this." 

Alarmed, Ronan starts to withdraw his hand, but Adam grabs it before he can. "No, I don't mean it in a bad way. Quite the opposite. Just... keep going. Please."

Ronan does, brushing his thumb over every freckle and fading scar, rubbing circles over his nipples, making him gasp quietly. Adam's eyes are closed, and there is a contentment and vulnerability on his face that is so rare, that Ronan treasures with everything in him. He finds it amazing how Adam can go from the confident, arrogant, teasing creature that takes him apart piece by piece, who constantly rolls his eyes at him and shoots him looks of withering disdain that chastise him more than he cares to admit, to this soft, vulnerable, shy boy who looks like he just needs to be held. 

“So,” Ronan starts, all casual, “When did you and Sargent talk about… you know.”

Adam’s brows scrunch in confusion until the meaning hits him and he flushes slightly. “How did you—what did she say?”

“Relax, Parrish. She didn’t say much. Just that you’re a dumbass who overthinks everything.”

“Well, I guess that’s true.” He purses his lips. “It was that time at Nino’s. When she said… and then I…”

“Oh,” Ronan says, his heart clenching as he remembers the feeling in his gut at seeing Adam flinch away from the prospect of being in love with him. He knew Adam didn’t mean it like that, but it still hurt.

“I didn’t… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. It was just instinctive, and it wasn’t even about you, really.”

“Don’t apologize,” Ronan says gently. “I get it.”

“I should have said the words sooner. I just needed to make sure. I… I didn’t want to hurt you,” Adam says, sounding miserable. “I never want to hurt you but sometimes it feels like that’s all I know how to do.”

Ronan feels bile rise in his throat, feels a burning rage at the people who made Adam feel like he could never love, only hurt.

“Don’t say that. It’s not true. You don’t know how happy you make me, shithead. And I hurt you as much as you hurt me. I know neither of us mean it.”

“It’s not the same,” Adam insists.

“Why not? Because I’m so goddamn fragile and breakable?” Ronan demands, feeling his temper rise despite his best efforts. “Did Gansey give you another one of his shitty ass speeches?”

“No, I didn’t mean—you’re the strongest person I know, Ronan,” Adam says earnestly. “But you’re not nearly as impenetrable as you like to pretend you are. And I’m—I fuck everything up.”

“Yeah, well, join the club. We’re both massive fuck ups who are perfect for each other.”

Adam’s lips quirk. “I guess we are.”

“We’re both capable of being shitty, alright? Don’t flatter yourself and think you’re the only one.”

Adam snorts. “Don’t worry, I’m well aware you’re an asshole.”

“And, by the way, fuck you,” Ronan adds. “I’m impenetrable. I’m invincible. I’m a fucking fortress.”

Adam cups Ronan’s cheek with his palm and traces his cheekbone, so gently. “You don’t have to be, you know,” Adam says softly. “Not with me. That’s the point.”

Ronan knows. Adam has been able to peel his layers back until he had no defenses left. Adam Parrish is the one person who sees Ronan Lynch at his core, who Ronan _lets_ see at his core, where he’s unprotected and vulnerable, and it’s terrifying.

Ronan kisses Adam’s palm in silent gratitude.

_Thank you for being here. Thank you for knowing me. Thank you for never treating me like I’m a broken thing._

_Thank you thank you thank you._

 

*

 

Three days later, after school on Monday, Adam and Ronan are at Monmouth with Gansey when Henry waltzes in, a salesperson’s smile on his face.

“Oh no,” Ronan says. “What’s that look for, Cheng? What are you up to?”

Henry waves a dismissive hand. “I don’t know why you’re always so suspicious of me, Lynch. I’m only here to get you all to sign a very important petition—“

“Fuck no—“

“—that is advocating to improve Aglionby’s sex ed program—“

“What the fuck? Why?”

Henry shoots Ronan an annoyed look. “Just because you don’t care about proper sex education, doesn’t mean it isn’t important. Besides, you’d like quite a few of the changes.”

“I really fucking doubt it,” Ronan replies.

Adam punches Ronan lightly on the arm. “Don’t be a shitbag.”

Henry grins, taking a handful of something out of his backpack. “First change: free condoms available in the hallways. You and your boy should appreciate this, Lynch,” Henry says, tossing a bunch of condoms at Adam. Adam catches a couple and the rest fall to his lap.

Adam stares at them, a flush crawling up his neck. He feels Ronan’s gaze on the side of his face.

“Ganseyboy, I’d give you some, too, but I know you and Wendybird aren’t—“

“Henry, please,” Gansey interrupts, red-faced.

“Parrish and Lynch, however, probably go through a pack per day. Enjoy, kids. And in exchange for the free goods, sign my petition.” Henry shoves a pen and paper in Adam’s face, and Adam sighs before taking the pen and signing it.

“I can’t believe you’re buying into this shit,” Ronan scoffs.

“Hey, I’m just thanking Henry for the free condoms,” Adam says, smirking.

“That’s the way to go, my man,” Henry says, pleased. “I hope you make full use of them this weekend.”

Adam turns to look at Ronan, raising his eyebrows in challenge. Ronan’s eyes darken and he returns Adam’s look with a hungry one of his own.

When Adam drives to work soon after, all he can think about the condoms burning holes in the pockets of his jeans.

Ronan arrives at St. Agnes later that evening, immediately collapsing next to Adam on his shitty mattress and draping an arm over his eyes.

“I hate you,” is the first thing Ronan says.

“Okay,” Adam replies, humoring him. “Would you care to expand on why?”

“Because, you left me alone with Gansey and Cheng for three hours. They wouldn’t let me fucking leave and talked my ear off about nerdy shit the entire time.”

“Poor you,” Adam says, sarcastic and annoyed. “I’m so sorry some of us actually have to work.”

Ronan removes his arm from his face and scowls. “Lighten up, Parrish, I was joking.”

“So was I,” Adam insists, even though he wasn’t, really.

“Right,” Ronan mutters.

They sit in silence for a while, both of them staring at the ceiling, before Adam blurts, “So, speaking of Cheng—“

Ronan groans. “Please tell me _that’s_ not how you’re going to start this conversation.”

“How exactly would you prefer I start it, then?”

“I dunno, Parrish,” Ronan mumbles, and his voice is so strangely timid that Adam turns over on his side to look at him. 

Ronan is studiously staring at the ceiling, and Adam can’t help but smile. “Should I just throw the condoms at your face instead? That’s one way to do it. Subtle, too.” 

“You actually _kept_ them?”

“Of course. That shit costs money, you know.”

“I could just dream us up some. They’d be foolproof and magical and shit.”

Adam sidles closer. “So… does that mean we’re using them?”

“Are you suggesting that we have sex without them? Sheesh, Parrish, didn’t you learn anything in sex ed? Maybe Henry’s right about having the program improved.”

Adam pokes at Ronan’s side. “You know what I mean, asshole.”

Ronan finally turns to look at him, and his expression is complicated. Adam squirms at Ronan’s penetrating gaze, suddenly unsure.

“We don’t have to,” Adam says hastily. “If you don’t want—“

“No, I want to,” Ronan interrupts quickly, then flushes. “I… definitely want to.”

“Oh,” Adam breathes, casual. “Well, good. And so, um… what, exactly, do you want?”

Ronan glares at Adam. “As if you don’t know.”

“I want to make sure,” Adam says earnestly.

Ronan sighs and lifts himself on top of Adam, leaning into his right ear. He whispers, “I want you to fuck me.”

All the blood in Adam’s body is suddenly going down at those words, his breath hitching and toes curling without his permission.

“God,” Adam says hoarsely. “ _Yes._ ”

Ronan pulls back, cheeks red. “Yeah?”

Adam twines his hands around Ronan’s neck. “ _Fuck_ yes.”

Ronan exhales and kisses Adam roughly. “Shit, Parrish. I’ve… thought about this for so long.”

Adam grins into his mouth. “Have you?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I have, too,” Adam admits after a moment.

Ronan’s eyes darken. “You should’ve said something sooner. Put me out of my misery.”

“You could’ve said something, too,” Adam points out.

Ronan shrugs. “I didn’t know if you’d want…”

“I didn’t know if you’d want to, either.”

Ronan looks at Adam like he’s insane. His voice is low and serious when he says, “Adam, I’d fucking let you do anything to me.”

Adam’s breath hitches. “Anything?”

Ronan leans in close and whispers against Adam’s mouth, “Anything. Everything.”

“That’s… good to know,” Adam says, voice strained. “Maybe we should test that out.”

“You have no idea how much I want to,” Ronan says, looking pained. “But Opal’s been alone at the Barns for a while. I should get going soon.”

Adam sighs. “Yeah, I have a lot of homework as it is and work early tomorrow.” He pauses. “But we can… soon, right? I mean, if you’re ready.”

Ronan kisses his cheek. “Definitely ready.”

 

*

 

They don’t see each other again until Friday, and sitting pressed against each other at Nino’s is a special kind of torture. Adam’s hand wanders to Ronan’s knee, his inner thigh, skims his lower back right above his ass.

The car ride to St. Agnes afterwards is mostly silent, but as soon as they’re parked and out of the car, Adam launches himself at Ronan’s lips and the other boy makes a surprised sound.

Ronan doesn’t resist, though, just kisses him back with equal fervor, and then they’re stumbling through the night trying to make it up the stairs to the landing without breaking the kiss. It takes a while, but Adam doesn’t mind, and he manages to get the door open to his apartment open with Ronan’s bruising lips still on his.

Once inside, Ronan presses him against the door and, to Adam’s surprise, lifts him up from beneath his thighs. Adam groans and doesn’t hesitate to wrap his legs around Ronan’s waist, shamelessly hard and grinding into him. Ronan’s hands on his thighs hold up his weight and make Adam’s body flood with want, and when Ronan’s lips leave Adam’s mouth to trail down to his neck, Adam digs his nails into the back of his neck so hard that Ronan hisses in pain and pleasure. 

“Sorry,” Adam gasps, wrapping his legs even tighter around Ronan, letting out an embarrassing sound when Ronan’s hands leave his thighs to grip his ass.

“Ronan, Ronan, wait—“ Adam manages, and Ronan lets go immediately. Adam is standing on his own two legs again and they’re both breathing hard, faces flushed and pupils blown wide. 

“What?” Ronan’s voice is hoarse with desire. 

Adam gulps. “I was—I was thinking… I want to try something.” 

Ronan’s eyes widen. “You mean—“

“No,” Adam says quickly. “Not that, yet, I just…”

“Then what?” Ronan asks, his eyes dark with anticipation, clearly excited for whatever Adam’s suggesting. 

Adam takes a deep breath, and, unable to convey what he wants in words, he pulls Ronan closer to him by his hips, so that they’re cheek to cheek. He trails his hand down Ronan’s lower back, right above his ass, and then draws one finger into the waistband of Ronan’s jeans, going lower and lower. 

The surprised shudder that Ronan makes is enough to keep Adam up for nights on end. 

“Yes?” Adam whispers. 

Ronan’s breathing has gotten much quicker, his hands fisted tighter in Adam’s shirt, and he says, voice low and wrecked, “Fuck. Fuck, Adam, _yes._ ” 

Adam pulls back and looks at Ronan, whose expression is awed and worshipful. “Are you sure?” 

“ _Yes_.”

“Okay,” Adam breathes. “Um, so…” 

“Do you have lube?”

Adam bites his lip. “Not exactly, but…” He leaves the cage of Ronan’s arms to go towards his bathroom, and brings out a small container of lotion that smells like mist and moss.

Ronan is lying back on the bed, and when he spots the lotion, his eyes widen and he laughs breathily. “Jesus. When I dreamed you that shit, I didn’t really think about using it for _this_.”

Adam smirks, leaning over Ronan on the mattress. “I did.”

Adam can tell the thought is turning him on further. “You have a dirtier mind than I do.”

“As if you didn’t already know that.” He pauses, eyes boring into Ronan’s. “You’ve… you’ve thought about doing this, though?”

Ronan huffs as if Adam is being particularly dim, though his ears turn bright red. He takes Adam’s hand – the one that isn’t holding the lotion – and kisses it, and between furious kisses he says, “Have I thought about your beautiful fucking hands inside me? Yeah, I have.”

Adam’s mouth goes dry. “Ronan. If you keep saying shit like that it’s going to end badly.” 

“Good. It’s been a while since I made you come in your pants.”

Adam rolls his eyes, and then leans back. “Why exactly are you still wearing clothes, Lynch?”

“There was no one there to take them off for me.” 

Adam sets the lotion down on the sheets and crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow. “You can take them off yourself.”

Ronan sits up and begins taking off his shirt. “Like watching me undress, Parrish?” 

Adam’s mouth quirks. “Yeah. I do.”

“I’ll make sure to put on a good show for you, then.”

Adam scoffs. “Yeah, no thanks. Just hurry up.”

Ronan slides off his jeans and boxers quickly, and then he’s completely naked with a fully dressed Adam on top of him. 

Adam suddenly feels strangely nervous and awkward. They haven't been awkward about sex in a long time, but this is different. More. He clears his throat. “So, um… how do you want… I mean…”

“However you want me,” Ronan exhales, sounding a little nervous himself. 

Adam chews on his lip, fingers tracing Ronan’s cheekbone. It’s heady to have Ronan underneath him like this, naked and vulnerable and letting Adam do whatever he wants to him. It’s almost too much.

“Can I… can we… like this? I mean…” Adam swallows. “I want to see you.” 

Ronan sucks in a breath.

“If that’s okay,” Adam adds hastily. 

Ronan nods frantically. 

“Okay,” Adam breathes. He takes a deep breath and gets some of the lotion on his fingers. Ronan is already hard, but he’s not doing anything, just staring up at Adam in anticipation. 

“Okay, so,” Adam starts, fumbling. “You should… um…” He groans, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. “I should have spent more time researching this.”

Ronan makes a sound of disbelief. “You _researched_ this?”

“Of course I did! It’s not like either of us knows what the hell we’re doing. And I want it to be good for you.” 

“It’ll be good for me no matter how you do this, Parrish. It’s _you_.” 

The words hit Adam in all the right places. Jesus. 

“Look, I’ll just…” Ronan spreads his legs and lifts his hips up a little, and Adam places himself between them, on his knees. He runs one hand up and down Ronan’s thighs, and the muscles clench beneath his touch.

He lowers his lotion-covered fingers and runs them further behind, up the cleft of his ass.

Ronan exhales shakily and closes his eyes, bringing one arm up to cover them. 

Adam stills, worried he’s doing something wrong. “Lynch,” Adam says. “Ronan, you okay?”

Ronan nods. “I’m fine. It’s fine.” 

Adam still hesitates. “Are you sure? We don’t have to—I mean, I can stop if you—“

“Get on with it, Parrish,” Ronan bites out. 

“I’m just making sure,” Adam responds, annoyed.

Ronan removes his arm from his face and takes Adam’s other hand, squeezing it. “I know,” Ronan says gently. “But I want this. A lot. And I trust you. You can relax.” 

“I should be the one telling you that,” Adam mutters, his mind replaying  _I trust you_ over and over again. 

“Adam.” 

Adam sighs. “Okay, okay. Just… tell me if it hurts or you need me to stop or whatever.”

Ronan brings Adam’s hand to his mouth, kisses his palm. “I will.” 

Adam nods, and then the pad of his pointer finger is slowly pressing inside Ronan. Ronan immediately tenses, screwing his eyes shut and gripping the sheets.

Adam pauses. “You good?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Keep going.”

Adam presses in past the first knuckle, easing his finger in as carefully as he can, and Ronan’s breaths are coming out harsh and quick. Adam takes one of Ronan’s hands in his free one and laces their fingers together. Ronan opens his eyes and tangles his other hand in Adam’s hair, pulling him close. Adam kisses him once as he presses his finger in further, and then they’re panting into each other’s mouths.

“You’re doing so good,” Adam murmurs, and Ronan moans softly.

“Keep going,” Ronan says again, desperate.

Adam smiles against his mouth. “Eager. What will you do if I don’t?”

Ronan makes a sound more creature than human and pushes down onto Adam’s finger, and the sensation is almost enough to drive Adam over the edge.

“Fucking – fucking do it, Parrish,” Ronan grits out, bucking up even more.

“Do what?” Adam asks, teasing. 

“Finger m—oh, _god_ —fuck me with your fucking fingers or I swear to god I’ll play the— _shit_ —Murder Squash Song on repeat for months.”

“Oh my god,” Adam says, horrified, “Please don’t mention that monstrosity while my fingers are literally inside you.”

“Then _hurry up_ ,” Ronan snaps. 

Adam laughs at the other boy’s clear impatience, but obliges and starts moving his finger in and out. When Ronan starts thrashing his hips again, Adam says, “Keep still, Lynch.”

“Can’t. If you’re not doing the work I’ll have to do it for you.” 

Adam rolls his eyes, and when he looks down he sees Ronan reach to stroke himself. “Don’t,” Adam orders.

“Why not?” Ronan asks, quite petulantly. 

Adam lowers his voice. “I want you to come just on my fingers. Can you do that?” 

Ronan’s breathing stutters and he makes a low noise in the back of his throat. His voice is strained when he replies, “Not if you don’t fucking— _Fuck!_ ” 

Adam gives him no warning before pressing a second finger in, and Ronan seems to prefer it that way, arching onto his fingers even more, whining when Adam tries to keep his hips still. 

Adam kisses him roughly, pressing his fingers deeper inside Ronan, reveling in Ronan’s reactions and the feel of Ronan’s hand tugging at his hair.

When Adam crooks his fingers just so, Ronan’s grip on his hair tightens painfully and he chokes out Adam’s name so loudly and brokenly that Adam freezes.

“There?” Adam asks, feeling drunk. 

Ronan groans obscenely in answer, writhing beneath them. 

Adam finds the spot again, making Ronan cry out hoarsely. “There?” Adam asks again, breathless and delirious.

“There,” Ronan groans, whole body shaking. “There, Parrish, God. _There_.”

Adam grins and then he pulls his fingers back and presses them back in harder, finding that spot again and again, and Ronan is cursing loudly and thrashing on the bed, wild and uncontrolled. Adam bites at his jaw, and Ronan lets out a sound like a sob, his hands fisting in Adam’s shirt. “Jesus shitting _Christ,_ Adam, oh my _god_.” 

What start as creative swears and cries of Adam’s name turn into incoherent, animalistic noises, and Adam can hardly believe how fast Ronan is coming apart. He’s done a lot of things to Ronan, but his reaction to _this_ , how painfully loud and wrecked he is, is completely unprecedented. 

“Adam,” Ronan gasps, as Adam is taking the skin beneath Ronan’s collarbone between his teeth. He turns his head and muffles a moan into the pillow when Adam presses harder, then tries again, “Adam I’m—I’m not going to last much longer.” 

Adam leans back on his knees again, wanting to _see_ Ronan, see all of him as he comes undone. He’s red everywhere, covered in sweat, cursing up a storm, and he looks so beautiful that Adam can hardly believe it. 

Adam takes the hand that was intertwined with Ronan’s and brings it to Ronan’s lips. Ronan’s eyes widen and, with hooded eyes, he draws two of Adam’s fingers into his mouth. Adam suspects it’s too much for him, for Adam’s fingers to be inside him in multiple ways, and with one last press of Adam’s fingers, Ronan lets out a hoarse shout of “Mary mother of fucking _Christ!_ ” and is coming all over his stomach, coming harder than he ever has before, nearly sobbing through his orgasm.

Adam kisses his neck through it and then pulls his fingers out, and Ronan whimpers quietly, involuntarily, at the loss. Adam just takes in Ronan’s wrecked form, his closed eyes, his lips raw from being kissed and bitten, his breaths more ragged than ever. He’s still shaking all over, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his face. Adam presses a kiss to his forehead before rolling onto his back, waiting for Ronan to recover.

It’s several minutes before Ronan has caught his breath enough to speak, and all he can manage is, “Fuck.” He sounds wrung out and gravelly. 

Adam turns on his side to look at him properly, and the sides of his mouth turn up in amusement. “Clearly.” 

Ronan is still breathing hard, his body still trembling. “What the hell was that, Parrish? Were you trying to kill me?” 

Adam purses his lips, suddenly filled with insecurity. “So it was okay, then? It was good?” 

“ _Good?_ Shit, Adam, it was fucking amazing. I thought that was obvious.”

Adam shrugs, unsure where the burst of uneasiness came from. He’d seen just how much Ronan liked it with his own two eyes. “It was, I just… I wanted to make sure.”

Ronan moves closer to him and takes his hands in his, presses their foreheads together, exhaling shakily. “Adam. Christ. That was… God.” 

Adam laughs, nearly beaming with pride. “So I succeeded in killing you, then?” 

“Definitely. This is my goddamn ghost talking to you.” 

“Well, see, if I hadn’t looked up all that information, it might not have—“

Ronan groans. “Shut up, Science Guy. Please don’t talk about your sex research shit right now. I don’t want to hear it.”

“I’m just saying—“

“Parrish, it was amazing because it was you. You’re a natural. Just fucking accept it.”

“High praise, Lynch.” 

“I call it like I see it.”

Adam scoffs. “Since when?” 

“Since you just made me come harder than I ever thought was humanly possible.” 

Adam grins slyly. “And I’ve only just gotten started. With a little bit of practice you might just be six feet under.” 

“Can’t wait,” Ronan says, kissing his lips once before sighing exhaustedly. “God. I’d blow you as a show of my gratitude, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move again.” 

“Did I wear you out that much?” 

“I’ll need help walking for at least a week.” 

“Drama queen. Just sleep it off.”

“Mmm,” Ronan replies, his eyes already fluttering closed.

Adam has to stifle another laugh. “God, you really are dead there.” 

“Your fault,” Ronan mumbles sleepily.

“True.” He quickly undresses down to his boxers and turns off the light, laying his head on Ronan’s chest. “Night, Lynch.”

Ronan sighs contentedly and wraps an arm around Adam’s middle, turning his face and nuzzling into his hair. “Night, Adam.”

The next morning, Adam wakes up before Ronan, and he isn’t entirely surprised to find the entire apartment covered in red roses.

When Ronan’s eyes flutter open almost two hours later, he gives Adam a lazy smile, only registering the state of the room when he sits up to stretch.

Adam doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look at Ronan, but he’s biting his lip to keep the laughter from bursting out of him. 

Ronan opens and closes his mouth several times before flopping back onto the bed and covering his face with his hands.

“Not a fucking word Parrish,” Ronan warns.

“I didn’t say anything,” Adam says, trying and failing to keep the laugh out of his voice. 

Ronan peeks out between his hands and glares at him. “I hate you.”

Adam is shaking with silent laughter at this point. “No, you _love_ me and my hands so much that you dreamt at least a thousand roses all over my apartment.” 

“Fuck you.”

“What’ll happen when you do? The entire state of Virginia will probably be covered with flowers.”

“You asshole,” Ronan growls, before tugging at Adam’s arm so Adam stumbles onto his chest and starting to tickle him all over.

“ _Ronan_ ,” Adam wheezes. “Don’t—you shithead—okay, _okay_ , I’ll stop.” He’s still snickering gleefully when Ronan relents, though. 

“You’ll never let me live this down, will you.” 

“Nope.” Then Adam makes a face. “You know, as much as I appreciate the romance, this is going to be a bitch to clean up.”

Ronan sighs. “Go on to work, Parrish, I’ll clean it up for you.” 

“I still have an hour before I have to start getting ready for work.” 

Ronan groans. 

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Right now? Yes.” 

“You’re that embarrassed, huh? That’s cute.” 

“Don’t call me _cute_.” 

“You dreamed me a thousand roses,” Adam reminds him. “Several times. I think it’s safe to say you’re cute.” 

“You’re the worst,” Ronan mutters, before getting up and stretching his joints, making unholy sounds as he does. He walks over to his desk where there’s a bottle of water. 

Adam leans back on his elbows and stares at the length of Ronan’s naked body, his tattoo seeming to move and shift with his back muscles. 

“You don’t want to put on some clothes?” Adam asks, his desire all too obvious in the way his voice catches.

Ronan turns to him, leaning back against the desk with a smug grin on his face. “Why, is this going to be a problem for you?” 

Adam scowls. “Shut up.”

Ronan cackles, putting the water bottle back and studying Adam’s desk. Adam’s never been one for personalizing his living space, but a few months back he’d added a couple things: a teddy bear with _unguibus et rostro_ sewn on it placed on his desk and pictures of him and Ronan with romantic Latin phrases on them taped on the wall behind it. Ronan has seen them before, had given Adam a look of pure elation when he’d first seen what Adam had done with his Valentine’s Day gifts, but every time he comes over to St. Agnes, he still stares at them for a few moments and his face goes soft as he does.

He shuffles some papers around, going through Adam’s Latin homework and muttering, “And you say my Latin grammar’s bad. This shit is just embarrassing, Parrish. Where was your head?”

Adam rolls his eyes. “Leave my homework alone and come back here, would you?”

“Yeah, yeah, one second.” Ronan is flipping through a notebook when his hand stills and he picks up a piece of paper with wide eyes. 

Adam stares at him in confusion and annoyance as Ronan scans the page. “What is it, Lynch? I’m sorry if my Latin isn’t as good as yours but could you just—“

“Adam,” Ronan says, and the way he says it stops Adam in his tracks. He looks up from the paper and the look in his eyes is raw and fractured.

Then it hits Adam. He hastily gets up, stumbling towards Ronan so quickly that he nearly trips, and snatches the paper from Ronan’s hand, face feeling hotter than the sun.

He doesn’t know how the list he made to figure out if he loves Ronan got into one of his school notebooks. He had planned to throw it away, but somehow never ended up doing it. And now Ronan found it.

He can’t look at Ronan, can’t say anything, can only look at his feet and let the utter humiliation fill him up from the inside. 

“Parrish. You… what is that?”

Adam doesn’t say anything. The floor is especially interesting at the moment. 

“ _Adam_.” 

Adam swallows, throat dry. “It’s… When I was trying to… you know… figure out if I really loved you, I… I looked some stuff up and—and this website said to make a list of how the person makes you feel so I tried that,” Adam mumbles, gripping the paper so tight he almost rips it.

Ronan doesn’t say anything for an excruciating moment, and then he bursts into laughter. Adam whips his head up, meeting Ronan’s amused, elated face, and then the hurt is pouring out of him so quickly that he can’t contain it.

Because of course Ronan is laughing at him. He’s ridiculous for feeling the way he does, for feeling these things so strongly. Ridiculous for making a list and doing research to pick apart love like some scientific concept. That was such a lowly, inhuman thing to do, and Adam is sure Ronan knew it.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Adam knows that Ronan doesn’t mean it that way, but it’s drowned out by the sick feeling in his chest. For a moment, all he can see is the Ronan from two years ago, the one Adam thought was nothing but sharp edges and cruelty.

“Christ, Parrish,” Ronan says, smirk sharp and gleeful. “Of course you made a fucking _list_ for this. Jesus. This is next level embarrassing.” 

And Adam can’t help himself; he flinches back, face scrunching up in hurt and anger. “ _Fuck you, Lynch_ ,” Adam says, voice low and furious, and then he starts ripping the paper up, shame pounding through him, eyes burning.

“Parrish, what are you— _stop_.” Ronan grabs Adam’s hands, gentle but firm, but Adam wrenches away from him, crumpling the pieces of paper in his fists. 

“I’m glad this is so fucking funny to you, Ronan. You’re a piece of shit,” Adam spits.

“ _What_? Don’t be an asshole for no reason, Parrish, you know I didn’t—“ 

“Get out,” Adam says, abruptly. He closes his eyes. “Please.” 

He feels too exposed. Everything he feels for Ronan is laid bare, and Ronan is mocking him for it.

There is nothing but the sound of their harsh breathing, and Adam can feel Ronan studying him. Then there are tender hands cupping Adam’s cheek, and when Adam opens his eyes, Ronan is looking at him with a soft expression. Adam can’t take it. 

“Adam.” 

Adam pulls away. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t want your pity.” 

They’re words Adam hasn’t said in a long time, but something about this moment has turned him into the Adam he was months and months ago, the one who felt so small and broken and unwanted.

“I wasn’t mocking you, okay? I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Sure you didn’t,” Adam says bitterly. “I told you, you know. I told you I wasn’t capable of love like you are. I knew I’d do it _wrong_ and—“ 

Ronan interrupts him with a deep kiss, but Adam resists again, determined to ruin this just like he ruins everything else.

“Adam. Will you just listen to me for a second?”

Adam’s lip quivers, and he wrings his hands together, looking at the floor. Ronan sighs and takes his hands in his and squeezes them. 

“Adam. Please.” 

It’s the please that does it. Adam wordlessly lets Ronan lead him back to the mattress, and then they’re laying down, Ronan on his side facing him and Adam on his back staring at the ceiling. 

“Hey. Look at me.” 

Adam does. Ronan’s face is open, and he reaches out to stroke Adam’s cheekbone with his thumb. 

“I was just joking. It wasn’t… you didn’t do anything wrong. _You’re_ not wrong. I meant it when I said that you were just as capable of loving as anyone else, just as well as anyone else. Okay?” 

Adam exhales. “You don’t know that.” 

“I _do_ know that. And, really, if you’re embarrassed, I’ve dreamt up a billion fucking roses on multiple occasions and a bunch of cheesy ass Valentine’s Day gifts. You have to give me this one.” 

Adam lets out a surprised, watery laugh and leans into Ronan’s hand. “If I must.” 

He shifts his body so that he’s facing Ronan, then presses his face into Ronan’s neck, breathing in his scent. 

“So you meant it, then?” Ronan whispers.

“What?” Adam mumbles, even though he knows exactly what.

“Everything on that list.” 

Adam stays silent for one, two, three seconds. Then, the smallest whisper, “Yes.” 

Ronan smiles into his hair. “You’re so fucking smitten, Parrish.”

Adam feels his ears go hot. “I can’t help it. How could I resist you with your farming and your bagpipes and your bald head—“

“God,” Ronan laughs, pulling back. “Shut up, you ass. I am not _bald_. It's called a buzzcut.” 

"You are. Super bald. But it's okay, I love you anyways."

Ronan just kisses him in response, slow and deep and lingering. 

“So,” Ronan says, voice low, “One kiss or touch or smile from me and your heart races, huh?” 

Adam goes redder than he already is. “You’re such a—“

Adam breaks off when Ronan takes Adam’s hand and presses two of his fingers to the side of neck, to his own fluttering, racing pulse. Adam’s breath hitches, and he stares at Ronan’s unshielded expression with an overwhelming gratitude inside him. Ronan stares back plainly, but his hand is trembling just a little where he’s holding Adam’s. 

“Ronan,” Adam says thickly.

Ronan presses their foreheads together. “I would make you a list,” Ronan mutters. “But I’m not… it’s…”

“It’s okay,” Adam assures him, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

“I love you,” Ronan murmurs against his lips, and Adam sighs into the words, kisses Ronan intensely, loses himself in the intoxicating rush of Ronan’s mouth.

“Love you too,” Adam says quietly when they pull back. Ronan kisses his forehead, and they lie there tangled up together until Adam has to leave for his shift.

 

*

 

The next morning at the Barns, Ronan is showering when Adam steps in.

“Parrish,” Ronan says, grinning. “Want to save some water with me.” 

“Always,” Adam says as he places his hands on Ronan’s bare, wet shoulders, hot water pounding on his back.

They end up kissing hungrily against the shower wall, and then Adam murmurs, “Turn around,” against Ronan’s ear, making the other boy shiver. 

With Ronan’s front pressed to the wall, Adam wraps his arms around his middle and presses feather light kisses into his shoulder. Ronan gasps at the feeling of Adam flush against him, and after a few moments Adam grabs a bottle from the shelf.

“I didn’t put that there,” Ronan says, eyes widening as he watches Adam squeeze lube onto his hand. 

Adam smirks. “I know. I did.”

“Christ.” 

“Is that a yes?”

“God. _Yes_.” 

Adam doesn’t ease into it this time, just presses one finger all the way in and then another, and Ronan is shuddering and moaning into the tiles of the wall, one of his hands reaching behind and gripping Adam’s hair. Adam’s other hand strokes him in time with the thrusts of his fingers, and Ronan’s hoarse shouts echo off of the shower walls. 

Adam pulls his fingers out after a bit, and Ronan lets out a noise of protest, until Adam drops to his knees and then it’s his tongue instead of his fingers. 

Ronan yelps in surprise. “Jesus shit Mary _fuck!_ ”

When it’s over and Adam is kissing the nape of his neck as he catches his breath, Ronan manages, “Parrish. What… the hell… was that?”

“What?” 

“Whatever the fuck you just did.” 

“Oh, don’t sound so scandalized,” Adam says witheringly. “I’ve never heard you scream that loud, so you obviously enjoyed it.”

“I’m not saying I didn’t, I just—Fuck, man.” 

Adam grins, reveling in Ronan’s wide, awed look and flushed skin. “What? Want it a second time? Or will you not be able to walk ever again?”

Ronan swallows visibly. “I—the second one.”

Adam is laughing before Ronan finishes his sentence. 

He isn’t laughing so much the next day, though, when they’re all at Monmouth after school and Henry calls Adam an asshole for some reason or the other. Adam can tell what’s coming before Ronan even opens his mouth.

Ronan smiles sharply and starts, “Well, you are what you—“ and Adam immediately covers his mouth with his hand, his face bright red and glaring daggers at Ronan while the other boy laughs silently from behind his hand, unrepentant.

Blue looks vaguely sick and Gansey looks like he’s having a stroke, but Henry just grins and says, shaking his head, “Kids these days.”

 

*

 

It’s not until the next weekend that they finally take the next step. The week is too busy for Adam for them to see each other, and they fight about it once again, and then Adam drives up to the Barns on Saturday night. They haven’t spoken for two days, and Adam misses him.

The Henrietta spring is in full bloom, a couple days into May already.

When Adam knocks on Ronan’s bedroom door, the other boy is surprised to see him.

“Parrish,” Ronan drawls. “Finally find time in your busy schedule for me? I’m touched.” 

Adam immediately bristles. “Don’t be a dick. I’m not going to apologize for focusing on work and school—“ 

“You don’t still need to work three jobs—“

“God, I _told you—_ How many times are we going to have this fight?”

“As many times as we need for you to fucking get it!”

Adam is on the edge of the bed, now, staring down at Ronan. All the anger in him disappears when he’s this close to Ronan’s face. He nearly collapses onto the bed, his shoulder touching Ronan’s. 

“Can we just—“ Adam starts, the exhaustion seeping into his voice. “I had a really bad day at work, okay? A bad week, actually. And I don’t want to fight. I just wanted to see you.” 

Ronan’s expression softens, and he automatically puts an arm around Adam. Adam leans into him, his eyes fluttering shut as Ronan kisses the top of his head. 

“Okay,” Ronan says quietly. “I’m sorry. Want to tell to me about it?” 

“Maybe later. Right now I just need…”

Ronan understands, pulling Adam ever closer, kissing the side of his face. Adam lets the warmth fill him up, feeling safe and comforted in Ronan’s arms. 

Adam looks up at him and smiles, and Ronan smiles back, and it’s like the world has righted itself. 

Adam kisses him softly, melting into him as if by instinct. God, he loves him. How did he ever doubt that he loved him? He feels like it’s consuming him, all the love he holds for this boy.

“Ronan,” Adam breathes, pulling back. 

“What?” 

Adam lets out a shaky breath. “I was thinking… do you want to… tonight?”

The sentence isn’t totally coherent, but Adam knows Ronan understands with the way his eyes widen.

“Fuck. Yes.” 

“Opal’s at Fox Way, right?” 

“Yeah. We’re alone.” 

Adam’s pulse is thundering in his chest. “Good.” 

“Do you have the…”

“Yeah.” Adam takes out a packet of condoms from the back pocket of his jeans.

Ronan smirks. “You planned this, Parrish?”

“Nah. I’ve had it there for over a week. Just in case.”

“But you did come here tonight to seduce me?” 

“Maybe a little.”

Ronan shakes his head. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me.”

“That’s my intention,” Adam agrees. He clears his throat. “So, um, you want to… now?”

“No time like the present.” 

Soon they’re out of their clothes and the necessary supplies are on the side table.

It’s always a little striking, the moments when they’re first naked in front of each other. Ronan has never been shy about his nudity, but Adam still can’t get that lingering uncertainty out. Ronan looks at him in worship, as always, and Adam doesn’t think he deserves it. 

From the moment they undressed, they don’t speak, letting their hands and bodies say everything they need to. It’s a little slower than normal, both of them knowing where this is leading and taking their time kissing and exploring each other as if they haven’t done it a thousand times before.

Ronan traces his hands over Adam’s chest, fingers brushing lovingly over his scars. Ronan takes his time kissing them, kissing all over Adam’s torso. Adam feels drunk with all the affection.

Adam works Ronan open with his fingers, while his mouth is around him, occasionally pulling off to suck on the inside of his thigh, or to add his tongue with his fingers, just a little bit. Ronan is writhing under him, seeming to have lost all coherency, until he grits out, “Parrish, get on with it.” 

Adam pulls off. “Are you sure? I could add another—“

“Yeah I’m fucking sure, Christ, don’t flatter yourself and hurry the fuck up.”

Adam huffs, annoyed, and pulls his fingers out, making Ronan arch up into them and let out a whine. 

“I thought you wanted me to _get on with it_ ,” Adam teases.

Ronan glares at him. “Shut up.” He takes a deep breath and his head falls back onto the pillow. “If you kept going I wouldn’t have lasted, alright? Now please, just _fuck me_.”

Adam swallows, the blood in his body all focused at one point. “Well, since you said please.” Ronan gives him a disdainful look. “So, how do you want this?” 

Ronan leans up on his elbows. “Like this. If that’s okay with you.”

Adam nods. “I want it like this too.” He wants to see Ronan, touch Ronan, wants Ronan to see and touch him. Besides, they’ll have plenty of time in the future to try out new positions.

Ronan spreads his legs further and Adam slowly places himself between them, but then he freezes, a sudden nervousness hitting him. 

“Adam. What’s up?” Ronan asks, voice barely above a whisper.

“Nothing, just…” Adam trails off.

Ronan grabs his hand and kisses his gently. “Nervous?” He says against Adam’s knuckles.

“A little,” Adam admits. “You?” 

“A lot,” Ronan mumbles, and the confession catches Adam off guard.

“We don’t have to—“ 

“No, I didn’t mean—I want to, I promise. It’s just…” 

“A lot,” Adam finishes. 

“Yeah. I just never thought…”

Adam leans over him and kisses him. “Hey. I love you,” Adam murmurs into his mouth.

Ronan exhales, shaky. “I love you, too.”

He pulls back and rips open the condom packet, but when he goes to put it on, Ronan snatches it from him.

Adam furrows his brows. “What—“ 

And then Ronan is putting the condom on him, disarmingly gentle about it. He traces his hands over Adam’s ribs and looks up at him, worship and want and love in his eyes.

“Adam,” Ronan breathes.

Adam swallows and leans back over him, sloppily kissing the corner of his mouth. “You ready?”

“Yeah.” 

Adam lines himself up. Ronan gasps quietly at the first brush of him, then shudders when Adam starts to ease himself in.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Adam whispers. 

Ronan’s eyes are bright and boring into his. “I know. I trust you. Keep going.” 

Adam does, and says, trembling, “Oh my _god_ ,” at the feel of being completely inside Ronan. Because really, nothing can compare to this, to being with Ronan like _this_ , so completely and wholly joined together. Adam presses his face into Ronan’s neck and trails open-mouthed kisses to his ear.

“Adam,” Ronan says into his hearing ear, sounding just as wrecked as he is.

Adam kisses his way to his mouth. They’re not even kissing, really; their noses are touching and they’re breathing on each other, taking each other in. Adam stares at Ronan’s long eyelashes, Ronan counts the freckles on Adam’s cheek. Their breaths are quick and shallow. 

“Does it—“ Adam whispers, “Is it okay? Does it feel good?”

Ronan doesn’t reply with words, just makes a desperate sound low in his throat. 

Adam presses his lips to Ronan’s chin, his jaw, breathing in and out. 

“Adam,” Ronan says, sounding like he’s falling apart. “Adam, please.”

Adam gets the hint, and moves. 

He starts out gentle, holding himself back, not wanting to hurt Ronan, but Ronan’s hoarse cries and growls insisting that he go faster, harder, are too convincing. Ronan’s hands are fisted in Adam’s hair, and Adam is clutching Ronan’s sides as he thrusts into him.

“Fuck, fuck _, fuck_ , Adam,” Ronan keeps saying.

“God,” Adam chokes out, lips crushed to Ronan’s cheek, “You feel so good.” 

When Ronan reaches down to touch himself, Adam grabs his hands and holds it firm. “No,” Adam tells him, voice low, “Just like this.” 

“Fuck,” Ronan breathes, awed. “Okay.”

It doesn’t take too long before Adam is coming inside Ronan, making Ronan come in turn – without being touched once, just from Adam’s inside him, Adam notes with pride. 

Adam presses wet kisses to Ronan’s neck, after, both of them sweaty and sticky and entirely sated. He pulls out, then grabs a tissue and cleans them up wordlessly. 

Ronan is still staring at the ceiling, seemingly numb. Adam notices a stray tear under his eye, and his wipes it away gently. Ronan blinks, his gaze meeting Adam’s, wholly unguarded and exposed. Adam kisses his slightly damp eyelids, his cheekbones, the corner of his mouth, sloppy and soft. Ronan cards his fingers through Adam’s sweaty strands, his fingers shaking. Adam nudges Ronan’s nose with his, and they stay there like that for a bit, just breathing each other in.

Then Adam rolls onto his back, and they both stare at the ceiling, breathing hard.

“Holy shit,” Ronan says finally, voice hoarse. “That was…”

Adam turns to look at him, and Ronan is already looking back. “Yeah,” Adam agrees, laughing. “That was…” 

“Amazing. Mindblowing. Life changing. Earth shattering.”

Adam grins, moving closer to Ronan and laying his head on his chest. “That good?” 

Ronan scoffs. “Don’t act surprised.” He pauses. “At least, it was incredible for me. I don’t know if you…”

“No,” Adam says quickly. “It was amazing for me too. _You’re_ amazing.”

“Stop, you’re making me blush,” Ronan deadpans.

Adam lifts his head up and flicks Ronan’s flushed cheek, amused. “You know, saying that sarcastically doesn’t work if you’re _actually_ blushing.”

“I’m not blushing,” Ronan insists, turning even redder, “It’s from the sex.” 

Adam snorts. “Sure.”

“Shithead.” 

“Hey. Seriously. You’re okay, right?” 

“Yeah. I’ll be sore as fuck tomorrow, though.” 

“Well, you not being able to walk is nothing new anymore, so.” 

“You dick.” 

Adam just smiles back. Ronan takes his hand and kisses his knuckles thoroughly.

Adam watches him curiously and then blurts out, “Do you like my hands better or my dick?”

Ronan makes an amused sound. “What kind of weird ass question is that?” 

“I’m genuinely wondering,” Adam says innocently. “Your hand kink is so excessive. Which body part do you prefer, if you had to choose?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Ronan replies, laughing. 

Adam can’t keep the grin off his face. “If you could never touch one again, which would it be?”

Ronan smirks. “Parrish, if I could never touch your dick again, that’d be way worse for you than it would for me.” 

“You haven’t answered my question,” Adam says, ignoring him.

“Your dick is preferable to all your body parts. That’s actually the only reason I’m with you, didn’t you know?”

“Rude,” Adam replies amiably. After a moment, Adam adds, “God, we’re gross. We should shower.” 

“So you can eat me out in there again?” 

It’s Adam’s turn to blush bright red, and Ronan cackles in response.

“You shower if you want, Parrish. I’m staying right here.”

“Mmm,” Adam agrees, cuddling closer. “’M sleepy.”

“So go to sleep.” 

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

“Night. Love you,” Adam slurs, half asleep already.

Ronan pauses only for a moment before saying, so quietly that Adam almost doesn’t hear it, “I love you too.”

 

*

 

When Adam wakes up, Ronan is holding a bunch of different colored roses in his hands, wrapping a string around them. He sits up and rubs his eyes, and doesn’t balk at all when he sees the room covered in roses. He’s come to expect it, really. 

Apparently, Ronan has, too. Ronan doesn’t even look at him as he goes about his task.

“What are you doing?” Adam asks, bewildered. 

“Making you a bouquet, obviously.” He’s tied about fifteen roses together in a bouquet and hands it to Adam. “Here. Knock yourself out.” 

Adam takes the bouquet and then shoves it in Ronan’s face. 

“Hey!” Ronan cries, indignant. “I worked hard on tying those together.” 

“Make me a flower crown and then I’ll be impressed.” 

“Fuck no,” Ronan says, tossing the bouquet over the side of the bed.

"Is this going to be a thing every time we have sex? Do you like plan it out?"

Ronan huffs, finally turning a little pink. "Please. I promise you, Parrish, it isn't fucking intentional." 

"Whatever you say," Adam says, holding a blue rose between his hands and picking at the petals. 

Adam lays down again, and soon Ronan joins him, and then they’re tangled together under the blankets, just kissing.

“Morning,” Adam murmurs.

“Morning, loser. Christ, you really did kill me last night. I don’t think I can walk.”

Adam grins, kissing Ronan’s nose. “That was kind of my goal.”

“Asshole,” Ronan says fondly. 

“Love you too.” 

Ronan smiles and Adam moves closer to him, pressing his face into his chest. He’ll have to get up again for work soon, but for now, he just lies there, feeling warm and quiet and happy.

 

*

 

After that, it’s as if Adam can never have enough of Ronan. They try it several times in several different ways.

The second time, Ronan lies on his stomach, his head pillowed on his arms, as Adam sucks and licks and bites the inked lines of his tattoo, and then he pushes inside him, hard and fast. Ronan reaches behind to knot his fingers in Adam’s hair, moaning gutturally as Adam whispers praises in his ear, as he touches and kisses every inch of his tattoo.

The third time, Adam pushes Ronan’s front against the wall, and there’s nothing gentle about it, a fact which Adam learns that Ronan appreciates.

The fourth time, Adam is on top of him on the bed when Ronan surprises him and flips them over, leaning back on his knees and staring down at Adam with intent. Adam watches in awe as Ronan rides him, gripping his hips so hard that he draws blood, and in that moment he remembers that Ronan Lynch truly is a god.

It takes them merely two weeks to use up the large stash of condoms Henry had thrown at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone catch that one BLLB reference? Future chapters will not be nearly as explicit lmao it's only the first time that I planned to go into this much detail. Also the next chapter will take a while bc I don't even have a concrete plan for it really (and if anyone is curious, this whole fic is going to be about 25 chapters probably.)


	16. prom night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam wasn’t planning to go to prom. He really wasn’t. He had no intention of spending more time with Aglionby boys than was required, no intention of seeing them in suits that probably cost thousands of dollars. He especially had no intention of spending almost a hundred dollars on just one ticket, no matter how much Gansey tried to convince him that senior prom was an important milestone in every teenager’s life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUPER SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. This chapter was really difficult to write for some reason and I just couldn't get it right :/ I'm still not super happy with it but I'm tired of looking at it. Trigger warning for discussion of abuse.

After a long day at school and work, Adam is grateful to be with his friends at Monmouth. They’ve put on some horrible movie or the other but Adam isn’t really paying attention. He has his head on Ronan’s shoulder and Ronan’s arm around him and the lull of his friends’ quiet conversation is enough to help him drift off. 

When his eyes flutter open again, the TV is off and the room is empty and silent. He’s horizontal on the couch with a warm blanket on top of him and a pillow under his head. He sits up, disoriented and confused, rubbing his eyes aggressively. A moment later, Ronan and Henry come out of Ronan’s room. 

“Thanks, Lynch,” Henry says. “This hair gel is the—“ 

“Shh,” Ronan hisses. “You’re gonna wake up—Oh. Parrish. You’re awake.” 

Adam runs a hand through his probably embarrassing as fuck hair and stifles a yawn. “How long was I asleep?” His accent is thick in his sleepy state. 

“Maybe two hours,” Henry says. “You fell asleep like halfway through the movie, if not before then. We tried to wake you up but Lynch threatened to murder all of us with his bare hands if we didn’t let you sleep. I’d say it was sweet if it wasn’t so utterly terrifying.”

Ronan sits next to Adam as Henry sits on the armchair perpendicular to the couch. Adam raises a questioning brow at Ronan, and Ronan just shrugs and says, “You need your beauty rest. You look like shit.” 

Adam rolls his eyes with no small amount of fondness and leans into him. Ronan drops a quick kiss on his head and cards his fingers through the strands.

Ronan whistles. “Has anyone ever told you how ridiculous your hair looks when you’ve just woken up?”

“Yes, you,” Adam replies dryly. “Multiple times. In various different ways.”

Henry grins. “Maybe Lynch could dream you up some hair gel of your own, Parrish.” 

“Then his hair would look even more ridiculous, Cheng.” 

Ignoring both of them, Adam asks, “Where are Blue and Gansey?” 

Henry’s face darkens a bit. “Out to get some necessary supplies for Monmouth, supposedly. They said they’d be back in a bit and then we’d all hang out here some more. I suspect they just wanted some alone time without intrusion.” 

Henry’s voice and expression are carefully neutral, and Ronan and Adam exchange a look. Adam’s says, _So, he’s definitely crushing on Gansey, right?_ and Ronan’s responds, _Oh, yeah, no doubt about it._  

Henry makes an exasperated sound. “Can you two not do your weird telepathic thing right in front of me?”

They both turn to him. Adam clears his throat. “We weren’t doing anything.”

Henry scoffs, looking more put out than Adam’s ever seen him. “Yeah, sure. I know what you two are thinking.” He stands up, suddenly, starting towards the door. “Whatever. Tell Blue and Gansey I had to get back. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” 

Ronan actually looks concerned. “You sure, man? You can just stay here. Blue and Gansey will be back soon and we’re spending the night, too.”

Henry shakes his head. “It’s all good, Lynch. Catch you guys later.” And then he’s gone.

“So,” Adam starts. 

“He has it bad.” 

“Yup.” 

Ronan stands up and holds out a hand. “Come on.”

Adam stares at him.

Ronan sighs. “To my room. You’re exhausted.”

“I’m fine. I just slept for two hours and it’s not even that late.” 

“Let me rephrase. I want you in my bed as soon as possible.” 

Adam smirks. “Well, why didn’t you just say that?” 

Ronan doesn’t answer, just takes Adam’s hands and pulls him up so swiftly that Adam stumbles into him. Ronan’s hands circle his waist to steady him, and Adam’s hands are on Ronan’s shoulder, but neither of them move away.

Adam’s hands slide to grip the back of his head, stroking the dark fuzz there, and he buries his face into Ronan’s shoulder, inhaling deep. Ronan pulls him ever closer, nose nudging his right ear.

They stay there like that for a bit, not speaking. Adam feels his eyes droop close again.

“Parrish,” Ronan says, amused, jolting Adam out of his haze. “You better not be falling asleep on my shoulder again.”

Adam holds on tighter. “Can’t help it,” Adam mumbles into Ronan’s neck, “You’re so comfy. And warm.”

“The bed’s even warmer.”

Adam pulls away, sighing, and gives Ronan a sleepy, silly smile. “The bed’s not as cute as you are, though.” 

Ronan rolls his eyes. “You’re obviously tired as hell.” 

Soon, they’re in Ronan’s room, on the bed with their shirts off and Ronan sloppily kissing down his neck. Adam likes it this way when he’s tired – Ronan’s messy, affectionate, tender kisses making their way through every inch of him, Adam just laying there with his lips parted and contentment in his bones. 

“What do you think will happen with the Henry thing?” Adam asks as Ronan sucks a bruise right below his Adam’s apple, Adam’s hand on the base of his skull. 

Ronan blows out an annoyed breath. “Please don’t bring up Henry when we’re making out.”

“Shut up. You were worried for him, too.”

Ronan sits up and Adam follows him, letting Ronan straddle his lap.

Ronan just shrugs. “I don’t know, man. He’s clearly into Gansey. Or maybe Blue. Or both. I can’t fucking tell anymore. Either way, Blue and Gansey are together. True loves or whatever the shit. That means Henry doesn’t have a chance.”

Adam makes a derisive noise. “ _True loves_ ,” Adam says as sarcastically as he can manage. “Right. Please.” 

Ronan raises an eyebrow. “What, you don’t believe in that true love and soulmate stuff?”

His carefully neutral tone and the way he says _stuff_ instead of _shit_ implies that maybe he does believe in it, so Adam treads cautiously.

“I mean, I know they love each other, obviously. But no, I don’t believe in the whole fated true love thing. It just… it takes choice out of the equation.”

He finds the concept of fate offensive. It wasn’t fate that got him to where he is. It wasn’t fate that got him a full ride to Columbia and graduating the top of his class while working three jobs. It wasn’t fate that brought him to a home with love and safety, with hooved girls and tattooed boys with unshielded smiles. Everything Adam achieved, it was all him. 

“So you think Blue and Gansey didn’t have a _choice_?” Ronan asks, incredulous. 

“No, I’m saying they _do_. Because fate is bullshit and—“ He falters, not sure how to explain what he means. “ _Fate_ didn’t make me want you. I’m not here because fate told me I had to be and I had no other choice but to inevitably fall in love with you because we’re soulmates or whatever. That’s ridiculous. I’m here because I want to be. Because I love you. Because I _chose_ this,” Adam says with conviction. Ronan looks like he’s feeling too much at once, emotions flitting across his face too fast for Adam to name.

All Adam knows is, this thing between them, it’s _them_. They fell for each other slowly, after seeing and learning and understanding every part of each other, after spending hours and hours together lying under the roof of St. Agnes, after pushing each other in shopping carts and being there for each other when no one else was, and that's more special to Adam than anything that has to do with fate and true love and the stars aligning could ever be.

Adam finishes, “And Blue and Gansey can choose whatever they want, too, whether it’s to break up and be with other people or stay together forever. They’re not stuck with each other just because fate supposedly says so." 

Ronan exhales loudly, eyes rapt on Adam’s. “You’re a force of nature, you know that, Parrish?” 

Adam feels his cheeks heat at the compliment. “I’m just stating the obvious.” 

Ronan brushes hair out of Adam’s eyes. “Well, you make a convincing argument, but I have to disagree.”

“And why’s that?”

Ronan’s intense gaze burns through Adam, and his fingers lightly trace his cheekbone. “When it comes to you, I never had a choice,” Ronan says softly.

Adam’s breathing stutters, but he manages, “Don’t be stupid. You have a choice. You’re just choosing to waste it on me.”

Ronan takes Adam’s left wrist and brings it to his mouth. His lips brush over where Adam’s pulse is thundering, kissing it softly. Adam’s eyes flutter shut. 

“I’m not wasting anything,” Ronan says against his skin.

“If you say so,” Adam says breathily as Ronan kisses every one of his fingertips. 

Ronan leans down and mouths at his jaw, then goes upward, lips trailing to the sensitive spot just below his ear, giving Adam goosebumps. “I do.” 

Adam gasps quietly as Ronan sucks on his earlobe. “God,” he breathes out, hands splaying out on Ronan’s bare back, exploring his tattoo as he’s done a thousand times before. 

As Ronan kisses down his throat, Adam adds, “I think you’re going soft on Henry. You think he’ll be okay?”

Rona sighs and pulls back. “Seriously, don’t mention Henry when I’m kissing your neck, _please_. But… I don’t know. It’s not easy, being in love with someone when they’re with someone else. Or even when they’re not.” 

There’s a tightness to Ronan’s voice and expression. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” Adam says gently.

Ronan averts his gaze. “It wasn’t a fucking picnic seeing you and Sargent together. Back then I thought you were straight, too. Every time you’d take her hand…” He trails off, mind caught on some old wound.

Adam pulls him down and kisses him deeply. His accent is pronounced when he says, smiling crookedly, “Well, the only person whose hand I wanna hold now is you.” Then he takes Ronan’s hand and laces their fingers together.

Ronan rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Sap.” His words aren’t nearly as effective when he brings their joined hands to his mouth for a brief kiss. 

“You know, it’s weird to think about me and Blue now. It just doesn’t seem real, sometimes, especially after _this_.” He pauses, and then adds quietly, “Although, if I’m being honest, I don’t think any other relationship in the world could ever seem real after us.”

He wonders if anyone else has this, if it’s even _possible_ for anyone else to have something as incredible and significant as what he and Ronan have. It’s probably a vain line of thought, but Adam has never been humble. And his relationship with Ronan is nothing to be humble about.

Ronan is looking at Adam with that raw expression of his again. Adam reaches up and lightly strokes the stubble on his jaw, and Ronan leans into his hand.

“Planning on trying out other relationships, Parrish?” Ronan asks, eyebrows raised.

Adam huffs. “Definitely not.” 

“And what if _fate_ tells you that you should be with someone else?”

Adam lifts his chin and says, “Then I’ll tell fate to go fuck itself. I don’t want anyone else.” 

Suddenly, he flips them over so he’s on top, making Ronan let out a startled noise. He kisses down Ronan’s chest, biting and sucking until Ronan is writhing beneath him, and when he reaches the waistband of Ronan’s sweats and kisses his erection through it, Ronan grips the sheets tightly and groans.

Once his sweats and boxers are down, Adam looks up at Ronan. “I only want you,” Adam says softly, kissing Ronan’s hipbone. Ronan’s face is flushed and he’s up on his elbows, looking at Adam like he’s something amazing. Adam travels up his body and kisses him roughly, deeply, and Ronan clutches Adam’s face like he’s going to disappear if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. 

“I only want you,” Adam says again, kissing the rough stubble of Ronan’s jaw, biting his earlobe. Ronan turns his nose into Adam’s neck, exhaling shakily. His breath hitches and when Adam looks down he’s stroking himself. 

Adam wraps his hand around Ronan’s and Ronan makes a strangled sound into Adam’s ear.

“Adam,” Ronan says, undone, “Please. Just…” 

Adam pulls back and looks at Ronan, his wet lips and hungry eyes. “What? I’ll—anything you want.”

Ronan opens his mouth but then they hear the front door is open and close and the murmur of Blue and Gansey’s voices. 

Ronan curses loudly and creatively, and the murmuring stops. 

“We heard that, you know,” Gansey calls from outside the door. “You two can continue on doing whatever you were doing if you can be quiet.” 

Quiet isn’t an option with Ronan. Adam gets up and puts his t-shirt on, ignoring Ronan’s protests, and goes out into the hall, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. 

Gansey and Blue both raise their eyebrows when they see Adam’s disheveled state.

“Your t-shirt’s inside out,” Blue points out dryly. 

Adam looks down and realizes that she’s right. He can feel his ears turn pink and he gives them a sheepish smile.

Gansey is frowning. “Where’s Henry?”

“Oh, he, uh, said he had to leave and that he’d see you guys tomorrow.” 

Gansey looks disappointed. “Oh.”

Adam stares at Blue, who is biting her lip and looking at the ground. He hopes everything works out between the three of them. He can’t imagine a months long roadtrip would be too pleasant if there’s tension in the midst of it.

Adam clears his throat. “Yeah, well, I’m just gonna go…” He nods his head towards Ronan’s door. 

Gansey’s lips quirk. “Of course. Go ahead.”

Once he’s back in Ronan’s bed, Ronan tries to start where left off, but Adam pulls away. 

“What?” Ronan demands, clearly annoyed and still in need of relief.

“Gansey and Blue are here now. And since you can’t be quiet to save your life—“

“Who cares if they hear?” 

“I do,” Adam says, exasperated. “And I’m pretty sure they do. And I’m tired.” 

“Oh, _now_ you’re tired again,” Ronan mutters.

“If you’re that desperate go jerk off in the bathroom,” Adam retorts, irritated. 

Ronan mutters something unintelligible under his breath, but gets under the covers and turns his back to Adam, an invitation.

Adam strips down to his boxers, turns off the light, and gets in beside Ronan. Instead of wrapping an arm around him, though, he starts tracing his tattoo, like he has a thousand times before. The black lines are stark against Ronan’s pale skin even in the dark of the room. Ronan sighs contentedly.

“You know,” Adam muses, voice soft and dim in the night, “I can definitely trace this with my eyes closed at this point.”

“Didn’t you draw it from memory that one time?”

“I _tried_. It wasn’t totally accurate. Not detailed enough. That was months ago, anyways. But now…” Adam trails off, snuggling closer.

“Always a perfectionist. I don’t even think I could draw it from memory, and I’m the one who designed it.”

“I still can’t believe you physically designed this,” Adam murmurs. He’d found out the fact months ago, but prior to that he’d always thought it was something a tattoo artist had drawn, or that maybe Ronan had just somehow pulled it from a dream, and it had been a shock to learn otherwise. 

“ _I_ can’t believe you thought someone else did.”

“I just didn’t know you were such a talented artist. It’s really beautiful.”

Even in the dark, Adam can tell that Ronan’s ears are red. “Yeah, I’m the next Picasso.”

Adam presses a kiss to the back of Ronan’s shoulder, where he knows a thorned rose sits. “Maybe you are.”

“Go to sleep, Parrish.”

*

The next night, Adam wakes up in a cold sweat, terrified with tears streaming down his face. He takes deep breaths to calm his racing heart, but by the end of it it’s still pounding, and the fear is still there. He wipes his eyes and does the first thing that comes to mind: he calls Ronan.

It takes seven rings for Ronan to pick up. “What, Parrish?” Ronan sounds groggy and annoyed.

It takes two tries before Adam can speak. “Were—were you asleep?”

Maybe Ronan notices how shaky Adam’s voice is because he pauses before saying, “No.”

It’s very obviously a lie. Adam looks at the alarm clock by his bed and curses internally. It’s three in the morning. Of course Ronan was asleep. For once he actually got some sleep, and Adam ruined it because he’s a coward who thinks of no one but himself.

“Sorry,” Adam manages. “I—nevermind. Go back to sleep.”

“Parrish, it’s fine. What happened?”

Adam swallows. His voice is slightly choked when he asks, the words coming out before he can stop them, “Can you come over?”

Ronan doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Ronan’s tone turns alarmed. “But… is everything okay? Are you—“

“I’m not hurt,” Adam says quickly, and he hears a relieved sigh on the other end. “You know, I was just being stupid, you don’t have to—“

Ronan hangs up before Adam can finish his sentence.

As Adam waits for Ronan to arrive, wringing his hands together, he feels a wave of self-loathing hit him. What was he doing, calling Ronan in the middle of the night just because he was scared after a nightmare? A nightmare of his father, no less. He should be stronger than this by now. He _needs_ to be stronger than this if he wants to get anywhere.

He’s relied on no one but himself his whole life, and now he’s calling for Ronan the minute things get difficult.

It’s terrifying, how much he’s come to rely on Ronan. How much he needs him. Need is Adam’s baseline, his resting pulse, and love is a privilege, and combining the two together brings about something so overwhelming that Adam doesn’t know how to deal with it.

Ronan makes it to St. Agnes in fifteen minutes, probably having driven quadruple the speed limit the entire time. He opens the door with a bang and immediately crosses over to Adam where he’s sitting with his knees to his chest at the head of the mattress.

“Hey,” Adam says weakly.

Ronan sits on the bed, but keeps as much distance between them as possible on the tiny mattress. He’s staring at Adam, a question in his eyes.

Sometimes, when Adam wakes up from a nightmare, he doesn’t want to be touched. Sometimes he feels as if every touch will somehow turn into a fist, or that anyone coming close to him will result in his hands betraying him, squeezing the life out of the people he loves most.

The first time Adam reacted like that was a day in January, when, after a nightmare about being back in that trailer, Ronan had tried to hold him and Adam had flinched hard and put his hands up over his head. He’d been mortified, unable to explain why Ronan touching him was suddenly too much to bear. He’d tried to apologize, but Ronan didn’t let him. He just sat with him, their bodies several feet part, and talked to him about everything and nothing until the sun rose. The first thing Adam did the next morning was launch himself into Ronan’s arms, clinging to him like a lifeline. Ronan had held him tightly and whispered, _it’s okay, it’s okay_.

Other times after a nightmare, however, nothing can soothe Adam’s mind except being enveloped in Ronan’s scent and touch and whole, alive presence.

Now, Adam says, voice almost pleading, “Come here.”

Ronan immediately puts an arm around him. Adam automatically buries his face into Ronan’s neck, closing his eyes and breathing in his ever-familiar scent. Something inside him stills.

“What happened?” Ronan murmurs against Adam’s forehead.

Adam pulls away, the shame trickling in. He wraps his arms around his knees and hugs them tighter to his chest.

“It was—stupid. I shouldn’t have woke you and made you drive all the way out here. I’m sorry.”

Ronan frowns. “Don’t bullshit with me, Adam. Tell me what happened.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Adam says tightly. “I’m fine.”

Ronan just gives him a look. “Liar.”

Adam averts his gaze downward, unable to look at Ronan as he forces the words out. “It was just a nightmare about my dad, okay? Like I said, it was stupid. I shouldn’t have called you. I’m s—”

“Don’t,” Ronan interrupts, “say you’re sorry.”

Adam furrows his brows and meets Ronan’s eyes. “But—“

“Adam. Don’t be sorry.”

Ronan’s arm is still around Adam and when he withdraws it Adam finds himself missing the warmth desperately. But then Ronan is taking both of Adam’s hands in his, holding them firmly between his palms. Their faces are close together, foreheads almost touching as Ronan stares at their hands and Adam stares at Ronan.

Neither of them says anything, but Adam watches closely as Ronan delicately runs his fingers over every line and crack and groove in Adam’s hands, turning them this way and that, before bringing his knuckles to his mouth. Ronan’s lips make their way across every inch of Adam’s hand, kissing the jut of bone on the side of his wrist, mouthing at his pulsepoint, lips tenderly pressing against every fingertip.

Adam watches and watches and watches as Ronan commits this act of worship, of comfort, saying _I’m here_ , _I’m not going anywhere_.

When Ronan is done, he lets go of Adam’s hands and instead cups Adam’s cheek, thumb rubbing circles into his cheekbone as he studies Adam’s face, trying to take apart his expression.

Adam doesn’t say anything, so Ronan just kisses his forehead and then lies down, pulling Adam to his chest. Adam exhales and wraps an arm around Ronan’s torso, holding himself ever closer.

“Thanks for coming,” Adam says quietly.

Ronan lets out a loud snort. “ _Now_ you’re being stupid.”

“I just…” Adam swallows, regretting his next words even as he says them. “I should be better than this.”

Adam can’t see Ronan’s face, but he can guess what it looks like from the way his body tenses underneath him.

“The fuck does that mean?”

Adam sighs, exhaustion seeping through him. “It’s been over a year since I left. And I’m still—this is still— _god_ , it’s bad enough that I’m still having nightmares about it, but I can’t even handle it on my own. How am I ever going to escape if—if—“

“Adam. This shit doesn’t have an expiry date.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?”

“I just… I don’t want to be scared anymore,” Adam says softly. “When I saw him that day—“

“What?”

Adam stills. He forgot he hadn’t told Ronan about running into his parents at the grocery store a few weeks back. Or the two other times he’d seen them since the trial, months and months ago.

Henrietta is a small town, and he’d known that it was inevitable that he would run into his father eventually, but even so, the encounters had left him shaken up and terrified, though they hadn’t consisted of anything more than a nod of acknowledgement by either party, if that.

It was easier, that last time. His heart was still pounding and his hands shook, just a little, but the fear wasn’t overwhelming the way it had been previously. He thought that if his father approached him, he’d even be calm and collected enough to firmly send him away. And that was something.

But the fear. It was still _there_. Miniscule, compared to how it used to be, but still ever present inside him. He wanted to get rid of it for good.

“Adam,” Ronan says, voice angry, bringing him back to the present. “When the fuck did you see him?”

Adam winces, sitting up. “I… a few weeks ago. It wasn’t—it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Why didn’t you _tell_ me?”

“I don’t have to tell you everything,” Adam snaps.

Ronan’s mouth is in a tight line, and then he’s sitting up too, knees drawn to his chest. “Was that the only time?”

Adam stays silent.

“ _Adam_.”

“No, okay? I saw him twice before that, and, no, I didn’t tell you, because it—it was fucking humiliating.”

“Humiliating?”

Adam runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Yeah, it was _humiliating_ that after all this time, just seeing my dad for one second could reduce me to a trembling fucking mess. I was scared and acting weak and pathetic and—and I didn’t want you to see me like that, okay?”

Suddenly, there’s a gentle hand on his jaw, and Adam looks up to Ronan staring at him intently.

“Parrish.”

Adam shakes him off, lying back down. “Don’t, Lynch.”

“Adam. You’re not pathetic and you sure as fuck aren’t _weak_.”

“You’re just saying that,” Adam mutters.

“Since when do I lie?” Ronan lies down on his side to face him. Adam keeps staring up at the ceiling. He feels his mind starting to retreat to some faraway place, and he wants to let it, but then Ronan grabs his hand.

It’s Ronan’s palm against his palm, warm and strong and sure, the valleys and rivers of his hand joining so perfectly with Adam’s. It must be magic, Adam thinks, the way Ronan’s touch can ground him so instantly.

“You’re the strongest fucking person I’ve ever met, Adam.”

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s true,” Ronan insists.

 _Maybe before I fell in love with you_ , Adam almost says, but bites his tongue. It’s unfair and it would only hurt Ronan, he knows, but Adam still can’t stop the bile from rising to his throat when he thinks about the way he called Ronan tonight. He’d been Adam Parrish, army of one, for so long, and now that he was slipping up and allowing himself to need other people, maybe it was too much. Maybe it was safer to be a one-man army. That way he wouldn’t crumble and fall if he found himself alone again.

After finding a home with Ronan, though, he isn’t sure if he even knows how to rely on just himself anymore. And that, more than anything, is terrifying.

He’s gotten too comfortable in this dream, too reliant, too careless, and he’ll be left flailing when reality catches up with him.

“You sure about that?” Adam says instead. “Because I came crying to you as soon as I had a nightmare.”

“Adam—“

“This wasn’t supposed to happen, you know,” Adam says, voice suddenly quiet and small.

“What?”

“ _This_. I wasn’t… I wasn’t supposed to _need_ someone like this.”

Adam still isn’t looking at Ronan, so Ronan lifts himself up and hovers over Adam, meeting his eyes. Ronan’s gaze is soft.

“You’re allowed to need people sometimes, Parrish. You don’t have to do everything alone.”

“Oh, what, you’re going to Dr. Phil me now?” Adam snaps.

Ronan is unfazed by Adam’s anger, simply returning his glare. Then his expression shifts, and he swallows audibly, leaning down to press his lips lightly to Adam’s pulse point. Adam fails at hiding his shiver.

“I need you too, Adam,” Ronan murmurs against his neck.

Adam exhales shakily. “You won’t be there when I have a nightmare in my dorm room. What will I do then?”

Ronan pulls back, and Adam’s heart clenches when he sees the brief flash of pain on his face. “Who says I won’t be there, Parrish? I can make a six hour drive in four. Three, if it’s a really good day. You can still call me just like tonight.”

Adam just scoffs.

“I’m serious,” Ronan insists. “I don’t care if you want me to drive down there in the middle of the damn night. If… if you need me, I’ll fucking be there. Alright?”

Adam says nothing, just looks up at Ronan with a small smile on his lips.

After too long of that, Ronan averts his gaze and hisses a little defensively, “ _What_ , Parrish?”

Adam’s mouth quirks further. “Nothing. I feel better now,” Adam says while running his thumb over the shell of Ronan’s ear.

Ronan rolls his eyes and kisses Adam’s cheek quickly, making Adam smile even more.

After a moment, Adam whispers, “I think he knows about us.”

Ronan’s expression tightens. “Did he say anything?”

“Not directly to me. But when I was walking away from him one time, months ago, I heard him mutter something about my ‘rich fucker boyfriend.’ It might have just been him being a homophobic piece of shit, but I don’t know. He could’ve seen us around town, or maybe someone else from the trailer park saw us and told him.”

“Oh,” Ronan says, voice neutral.

Adam frowns, cupping Ronan’s cheek. “Hey. I’m _glad_ he knows about us. I… I want the whole fucking world to know about us, okay?”

Ronan’s smile is sharp and, to most people, almost cruel-looking. But Adam knows better.

“ _Good_ ,” Ronan says, something fierce in his voice. “So do I.” Adam grins at him.

Ronan starts to roll over onto his back. “Come on. You should sleep.”

Adam clutches Ronan’s shirt tightly in his hand. “Wait. I… I don’t want to sleep.”

“Adam—“

“I don’t want to sleep,” Adam repeats. “Just… just talk to me.”

“Parrish, you have work in a few hours and you’ll—“

“Please, Ronan.”

Ronan clenches his jaw for a moment, and then breaks into a wide smirk. “I have a better idea.” He gets up and takes something out of his jeans pocket and tosses it at Adam. The BMW keys. “You’re going for a drive.”

Adam can’t help it; he grins.

Adam speeds along the empty Henrietta streets, going faster than he’d ever gone before, with Ronan’s gaze heavy on the side of his face and Ronan’s awful EDM playing loudly in the car, drowning out Adam’s thoughts. They stop at a field in the middle of nowhere and lie in the grass, looking up at the stars. Ronan takes Adam’s palm in his and Adam smiles at him. Ronan kisses every finger on Adam’s hand and runs his tongue over every freckle on his face, and they kiss and talk and laugh until the sun comes up.

When Ronan drives Adam back to St. Agnes to get ready for his morning shift, there are no more thoughts of swinging fists and breaking glass, only this absolute quiet inside him.

*

They’re all hanging out at the Barns one Friday night, Henry and Blue a little tipsy, Gansey nearly passed out from one drink, Adam and Ronan curled up on the couch and Opal on the floor, leaning back against their legs.

There is less than a month left until graduation and Adam can feel it in the air, can feel the promise of summer and freedom and possibility, of weeks upon weeks wrapped up in Ronan’s arms.

So, everything seems to be going well and he’s in a pretty good mood that day – until Henry Cheng speaks.

“Oh, Parrish, I’ll have your ticket for you tomorrow.”

Adam wasn’t paying attention, being too preoccupied with Ronan’s fingers rubbing circles on his lower back, so he absentmindedly murmurs, “Hmm?”

“Your prom ticket, Parrish. You said you only wanted one, right? Is Lynch buying his own, or are you—“

Adam immediately snaps to attention. Ronan’s eyes are piercing as he frowns at Adam. “Parrish? The fuck is he talking about?”

“Uh,” Adam says, eloquently.

Adam wasn’t planning to go to prom. He really wasn’t. He had no intention of spending more time with Aglionby boys than was required, no intention of seeing them in suits that probably cost thousands of dollars. He _especially_ had no intention of spending almost a hundred dollars on just one ticket, no matter how much Gansey tried to convince him that senior prom was an important milestone in every teenager’s life.

But then Henry had mentioned that because he was a part of student government, he could get all of them discounted tickets for only twenty dollars. It might have felt like charity, but Blue and Gansey had taken him up on the offer, too. He had thought about how excited Blue, Gansey, and Henry were for it, how prom _was_ a milestone, more proof of how he’d made it, he’d made it.

And then he thought about Ronan Lynch wearing a tuxedo, and well, that had just sealed the deal.

But he’d still only asked Henry for one ticket, overthinking it at the last minute. He knew he wanted to go, but he was sure that Ronan didn’t, and he didn’t want to make him feel obligated to go just for him.

He had been meaning to bring it up Ronan for a few days, but he ended up chickening out. Which was stupid. And now he has no choice. Adam just hopes Henry wouldn’t bring up the Tad thing, either.

No such luck.

Henry raises his eyebrows. “You didn’t ask Ronan, Parrish? Are you planning on going to prom with Tad, then?”

Adam feels color rise in his cheeks. “ _No._ ” He turns to Ronan. “I was going to ask you, I just… I figured you wouldn’t really want to go.”

Ronan’s expression is pained. “Well… fuck, Parrish, of course I don’t. I mean, _prom?_ At fucking Aglionby? Really?”

“Oh come on, Ronan,” Blue teases. “Don’t act like you don’t want to slow dance with Adam in his suit.”

Ronan flips her off.

Adam tries to swallow down his disappointment. “Look, I wasn’t going to go either, but… Henry managed to get us all cheap tickets and Gansey made some good points and… whatever, it doesn’t matter. I already bought my ticket, I hadn’t bought yours yet for this exact reason. And it’s fine, Lynch. Plenty of people just go with their friends. You don’t have to come with me.”

Henry grins. “Well, of course not. Because Adam is going with his _friend_ Tad Carruthers.”

Adam glares at Henry. “ _No I’m not_. Shut up, Cheng.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t tell Lynch about Carruthers’ promposal, either?”

“ _Henry_.”                                    

Ronan’s eyebrows go up to his hairline. “No, Cheng, go on. Since Parrish didn’t bother to tell me anything.”

Adam looks away sheepishly.

“Oh, it was marvelous,” Gansey breaks in. “Tad asked Adam to prom during lunch a couple days ago, in front of the whole school. He wrote a poem and everything. It was actually very sweet.”

“Our boy Parrish is quite the stud. I heard a few other boys asked him, too, even if they weren’t quite as romantic about it as Carruthers,” Henry adds.

“Only two,” Adam mumbles.

 _“What?_ ” Ronan growls, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

Adam winces. “They all made it clear that they asked me as a _friend_. They heard about how I only bought one ticket, somehow. They assumed I was going alone and they just—“

“What happened to that fuckface that Carruthers was dating?”

“They broke up months back, Ronan. Anyway, I said no, obviously, and I’m fine going alone and hanging out with—“

“Get me a ticket, Cheng,” Ronan interrupts.

Adam furrows his brows. “Ronan—“

“We’re going to fucking prom, Parrish,” Ronan snaps.

“Wow, Lynch, that’s the most romantic promposal I’ve ever heard in my life,” Henry says, smirking. “Heartwarming, really.”

“ _Lynch_ ,” Adam says, elbowing Ronan in the stomach. “You don’t have to do this. You obviously don’t want to.”

“Jealousy is the most effective motivator,” Henry points out.

“I’m not fucking jealous,” Ronan barks at Henry, scowling. “And don’t say _promposal_. That’s disgusting.” Then he turns to Adam. “I’m going, Parrish. End of fucking discussion.”

Adam sighs. “Fine. But since you’re forcing yourself to go, I’m paying for your ticket.”

“Parrish—“

“I’m paying, Lynch. End of fucking discussion,” Adam mimics.

Surprisingly, Ronan’s lips quirk. “Fine.”

“Fine,” Adam echoes, voice getting soft and almost tender without his permission.

The others seem to catch onto the sudden change in atmosphere, and Opal, who had thus far not been paying any attention to the other five, takes one look at Adam and Ronan and shrieks, “Gross.”

Later, when Ronan and Adam are lying in bed, Adam asks him, “Are you _sure_ you want to go? Because—“

“Parrish,” Ronan interrupts. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think that you don’t want to go with me.”

Adam knows he’s mostly joking, but real insecurity seeps into his tone.

Adam narrows his eyes at him. “Ronan.”

Ronan scowls. “What?”

“ _Ronan_. You—what, you think I want to go with Tad or something?”

“No, but all I know is that you seem weirdly determined to convince me not to go. And you only bought one ticket.”

“Ronan. You are such an idiot.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah, you really are. Do you think I could possibly pass up an opportunity to see you in a tux?”

Ronan stares at him, and then barks out a sharp laugh. “Of course that’s why you want to take me.”

“Well, it’s not like you’re actually going to dance with me, so _something_ has to make it worth it, doesn’t it?”

Ronan raises an eyebrow. “Who says I won’t dance with you?”

Adam snorts. “Only anyone who knows you at all.”

“Funny, I thought you knew me, but maybe I was mistaken.”

Adam shoots Ronan a withering look. “Lynch. Be serious.”

“What, you don’t think I can dance?”

“On the contrary, actually.” Adam had seen Ronan moving absentmindedly to the beat coming from his headphones plenty of times, had felt heat rise in his cheeks and his jeans get uncomfortably tight as he watched him. “Just because you _can_ dance doesn’t mean that you _will_ , and at Aglionby prom of all places.”

“Not only will I dance with you, but I’ll _slow dance_ with you.”

Despite his best efforts, Adam’s heart speeds up, just a little bit. “Oh come on, Lynch. You can’t really expect me to believe that.”

“You’re doubting my words, Parrish? I’m hurt. I may just have to break up with you.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “Okay, fine. So you’ll slow dance with me. And what brought about the sudden determination to do that?”

Ronan shrugs. “Just wanted to prove all of you wrong.”

“ _All_ of us?”

Ronan clears his throat. “Well. Sargent and Cheng may or may not have made a comment tonight about me being too emotionally constipated to slow dance or some shit—“

Adam laughs. “Well, they’re not wrong.”

“I’m _proving_ them wrong,” Ronan growls. “And you, asshole.”

“Whatever you say, Ronan.”

“I’m gonna sweep you off your fucking feet, Adam.”

Adam smiles. “Sure you are.”

*

When Adam hears the key turning in the lock of his apartment, he manages a panicked, “Wait! Don’t come in.”

Ronan’s groan is muffled through the door. “Parrish, I don’t know if you remember, but I’ve already seen you naked, so you can—“

“Just wait!”

“Why?”

“I’m not ready yet,” Adam yells back, fingers working furiously on the buttons of his tux.

“So fucking what?”

“Just wait, okay?”

“Is this some dumb prom night rule? You aren’t supposed to see your date before the—“

“Shut up, Ronan.”

Ronan shuts up. Adam attempts to make his floppy hair look somewhat presentable. It wasn’t until tonight that he realized he desperately needed a haircut.

“Okay,” Adam says, absurdly out of breath as he walks towards the door. “Come in.”

The moment Adam’s eyes land on Ronan Lynch in a tuxedo, his mind empties. His mouth falls open. His body lights on fire.

Adam has seen Ronan in a suit plenty of times, but this… this is on a whole new level.

Ronan is wearing that devil may care smirk of his, moving closer to Adam. Adam thinks he’s going to kiss him, but instead he just works a few fingers through Adam’s hair.

“Your hair’s a mess,” Ronan says.

Adam is still flailing like a fish. All that comes out of his mouth is, “Huh.”

Because Ronan is in front of him in a _tux_. With a crisp, white shirt. With a fucking _bowtie_. With—

“Is that a _boutonniere?_ ” A boutonniere of lilies. _First love_.

Ronan scoffs. “Isn’t that the kind of shit you’re supposed to have for prom? You’re the one who wanted to do this, Parrish, I’m just along for the ride.”

Adam panics. “Fuck. I totally forgot. How did I forget? I was too busy trying to find a tux and I—“

“Calm down, loser. I got one for you.” Ronan pulls something out from his pocket – a single blue rose. It’s somehow more beautiful than most flowers Adam’s seen. He wonders if Ronan recently dreamed it specifically for this, or if he kept one of the flowers that he dreamed after any of their intimate encounters. Adam would never admit it, but he’d discreetly pocketed as many of those flowers as he could each time it happened.

Adam gapes at him. “You got me flowers.”

“I got you _one_ flower. For a boutennaire. Not some elaborate bouquet. That’s more your style.”

Adam can’t help how widely he’s smiling. Then he runs a hand self consciously through his hair and over his cheap, second hand tux. Ronan had offered to dream one up for him, but stupidly, Adam had said no. It would feel like cheating; this was supposed to be a right of passage, after all, more proof that Adam had made it. And if he’d made it, he could buy himself his own tux.

Except he’s sure that he looks pathetic next to Ronan. Ronan always looks like a god, but tonight, especially… Jesus. Adam doesn’t know how he’ll deal with this.

“Stop that,” Ronan chides suddenly.

Adam furrows his brows. “What?”

“Whatever you’re thinking right now.”

“I was actually thinking about how good you look, but okay, I’ll stop thinking.”

Ronan’s ears redden just a little, but he isn’t fazed. “Maybe, but you were _also_ thinking some shit about yourself.”

Adam Parrish never thought he was an open book, until Ronan Lynch came into his life.

Ronan sighs and grips Adam’s waist, pressing his lips lightly to Adam’s right ear. “You look hot as fuck, Parrish.”

Adam flushes, Ronan’s warm breath on his ear and his words doing something unspeakable to him. “Okay,” Adam replies breathily.

Ronan’s mouth trails down to his neck, and Adam lets out a pleased sigh.

“Lynch, we should—“

Ronan pulls back, looking as undone as Adam felt just from the lightest of kisses. “Right.” He eyes Adam. “Your tie is crooked, moron.”

“Um, no, it isn’t—“ But Ronan is trying to fix it anyways. He ends up making it more crooked. “Ronan. _Now_ it’s crooked.”

Ronan shrugs. “Okay. I’ll fix it again.”

Adam can’t quite bite down a grin. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Whatever.”

After Ronan “fixes” his tie again, Adam mutters, “Tried to get a bowtie but they were more expensive.”

“Bowties are stupid anyways.”

“ _You’re_ wearing a bowtie.”

“Yeah, well—“ Ronan breaks off, suddenly something dark in his eyes.

“What?”

Ronan’s voice is slightly shaky when he answers. “This was my dad’s old tux. He wore it with a bowtie, so…”

Adam fails to hide his surprise. “Oh.” Then, in a soft voice, “You wear it really well.”

Ronan attempts a smirk. “Clearly you think so. You looked like a damn fish when I walked through the door, Parrish. And you were apparently just now thinking about how great I looked and fantasizing about all the things you want to do to me.”

“I don’t think that’s exactly what I said.”

“Am I wrong, though?”

Adam hates that blushes. “Shut up.”

Ronan snickers, and Adam elbows him in the gut. “Well, we can get to that later. Right now we have to go to the witches’ house.”

“I still can’t believe Gansey convinced Blue to allow him to get a limo for the occasion.”

“We’re definitely not going in that thing though, are we?”

“God no. We’ll probably want to get out of there way earlier than them. And Henry said they’re going to afterprom at Litchfield and I don’t know if I’m up for that.”

“Neither am I. We still have to meet up with them at the coven house, though, otherwise Sargent will murder me.”

Adam smirks. “You’re scared of Blue?”

Ronan glares at him. “You know she’s scary, Parrish. And she has a knife. And witches on her side.”

Adam doesn’t deny it.

*

Fox Way is even more chaotic than usual.

When they walk through the door, the first thing Adam sees is Blue Sargent in a puffy green dress. It’s undoubtedly handmade and not particularly attractive on its own, but somehow Blue transforms it into something beautiful and so very _her_.

And, as Noah had pointed out once, Blue does have very nice legs.

Her eyes light up when she spots Adam and Ronan and walks over to them. “Wow. You two clean up nicely. Ronan, you actually look kind of hot.”

“Save it, Sargent. I’m taken.”

Blue rolls her eyes. “What a shame.”

Adam grins. “Sorry, Blue, I just don’t think you’re his type.”

Ronan smirks, putting an arm around Adam’s waist and pulling him close. “Yeah, because my type is Adam Parrish.”

Blue makes a retching noise and Adam just lightly pushes Ronan away, though his cheeks are flushed.

“Come on, guys, they’re taking pictures in the living room.”

Adam is momentarily a little speechless when he sees Gansey standing there in his tux, next to Henry Cheng and Henry Broadway, who also look more striking than usual.

Gansey beams when he sees them. “Adam, Ronan. Honestly, I really wasn’t sure if you two would actually end up coming. How are you?”

“Well,” Ronan starts, “Currently, Parrish is ogling your ass in a suit. Personally I don’t think you’re that impressive, but—“

Adam turns red and elbows Ronan, hard. “I’m not—Shut up, Lynch.”

Gansey’s face is a little pink, too. “Ah, well, you look quite good tonight, too, Adam.”

“Quite good? Please, Ganseyboy, you know he looks absolutely dashing,” Henry says with an almost lecherous smirk.

Ronan practically bares his teeth. “Keep flirting with my boyfriend and I swear to god—“

Henry cocks his head to the side. “Or, what? You’ll stop dreaming up mediocre hair gel for me? I’ll find another way.”

Adam just holds his head in his hands.

Gansey lets out an exasperated sigh. “Alright, now that everyone is finally here, we can start the pictures.”

Maura is insistent on taking pictures of everyone together, and then the couples separately. Ronan is difficult, as usual, and refuses to do anything at first, but Adam whispers something incredibly persuasive in Ronan’s ear that results in him not only complying but also blushing all the way down to his neck.

“We are not doing the dumbass prom pose bullshit that Cheng and Cheng Two just did,” Ronan declares when it’s their turn to go alone.

“What do you suggest, then, Lynch?” Adam asks.

Ronan grins, a sharp knife about to make the cut.

Then he lifts Adam into his arms, bridal style.

“ _Lynch!_ You asshole. Put me down.” Adam struggles, but Ronan’s hold is tight.

Blue is laughing and Opal is clapping her hands aggressively. Henry wolf whistles. Adam wants to die.

“Now this is an interesting prom photo,” Maura says, and Adam can hear the laugh in her voice.

“Hurry up,” Ronan says. “He’s heavier than he looks.”

Adam just glares at the camera, but he can’t deny that Ronan’s body is warm, his arms safe and comfortable. Maybe it’s not a bad prom photo after all.

Opal tries to join in on the photos time and time again, often by Adam’s side, hugging his arm or his leg, and it takes some maneuvering and bribing to get her to step away from the camera.

At one point, Gansey idiotically suggests that all the boys should take a photo together, and Blue gives him such a scathing glare that Adam is surprised Gansey doesn’t immediately disintegrate from it.

“I’m the only girl here, so you might as well just say you want to take one without me,” Blue snaps, face turning red in anger.

“More like we’re the only guys,” Ronan mutters under his breath, his gaze flitting to Calla, Orla, and a bunch of other women who were watching the spectacle from the corner.

“How about all the _rich_ boys take one together instead,” Adam suggests dryly.

Blue shoots Adam a grateful smile. “I like that idea better.”

As they stand off to the side, Adam asks Blue in a quiet voice, “Hey, doesn’t Mountainview have prom? Did you think about taking Gansey to that one?”

Blue lets out a loud, unattractive snort. “Adam Parrish, are you suggesting that I, Blue Sargent, should have brought a _raven boy_ to public school prom? Not just any raven boy, but Richard Campbell Gansey III? Maybe you should go join the rich boys if you think that’s even a remote possibility.”

“It was just a question,” Adam says defensively.

“A stupid question. I’m _still_ paying for the day that Henry _and_ Gansey showed up in their fancy cars and fancy uniforms and made me a pariah at Mountainview. Well, more of one than I already was.”

Adam grimaces. “I can imagine. I just didn’t think you’d really want to go to Aglionby prom, either.”

Blue shrugs. “I wanted to go to _a_ prom. And all of you go to douchebag school, so it’s not like I had a choice. And, like I said, pariah, remember?”

Adam gives her a sympathetic look. “At least it’s almost over. And then you’ll be off traveling the world and leaving Henrietta behind.”

Blue bumps their shoulders together. Well, more like her shoulder and his elbow. “We’re only traveling America. For now.” A pause. “And I’m not leaving anything behind. I’m just…”

“Taking a break?” Adam suggests.

“Yeah,” Blue agrees. Then she gives him an appraising look. “You’re not just taking a break, though, are you.” It’s not a question.

Adam hesitates. Then, “No.”

Blue squeezes his hand briefly, and for a wild second, Adam is taken back to a moment over a year ago, when their wrists were pressed together and he could feel her pulse against his, nearly making his heart beat out of his chest, their hands not quite fitting together the right way, but almost. Almost.

“You’re going to do great things, Adam,” Blue tells him.

Adam smiles at her. “Thanks, Blue. So will you.”

*

Gansey and Henry try to convince them to go in the limo with them, but they both refuse. Ronan is more stubborn about it than Adam.

“We’re not staying for long and we’re not going to Litchfield,” Ronan snaps when Gansey asks them a third time. “We’re taking the BMW, Dick.”

When Gansey opens his mouth again, Ronan adds, “If you make us go in the limo, we’ll just defile it later.”

That shuts Gansey up.

When they reach the location – a beautiful hall by a lake, because of course Aglionby prom would be kept at the most expensive venue possible – they both stall in the car.

“We don’t have to go in,” Adam says quietly.

“Don’t be an idiot, Parrish. I told you I’d come with you a billion fucking times. You think I’d back out now?”

“No, but I know you only came here because you were jealous.”

“That’s not fucking true—“

“Ronan, you hate Aglionby.”

“I’m not here for Aglionby, dumbass.”

Ronan’s gaze is meaningful and intense, and even after months and months of Ronan’s unconditional love, Adam’s mouth feels dry at the words. “Cheng finally got under your skin, then?”

Ronan barks out a laugh. “Yeah, he wishes.” He pauses. “Also, if I see Carruthers, I swear to god I will punch him in the face.”

“You will _not_.”

“No, I won’t,” Ronan agrees, but there’s a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I’ll just have a nice little chat with him.”

“God, Ronan, I don’t know why you’re so worked up about this. He’s harmless.”

“He’s been coming onto you for months, Parrish. Even though you’re with someone. Even though _he_ was with someone.”

“He’s—he’s just—“

“He’s a smitten piece of shit, that’s what he is,” Ronan says, scowling. Then, he mutters under his breath, “Not that I can blame him.”

Adam can’t help it; he breaks into a wide, open smile. “You asshole,” Adam says in the softest voice, still smiling, as he takes Ronan’s hand in his and squeezes.

Ronan smiles back, loose and unshielded. God, Adam will never get tired of that. He could probably survive for the rest of his life just on Ronan Lynch’s smiles.

“I’m still going to scare the living fucking daylights out of him, though,” Ronan adds, breaking the moment.

Adam sighs. “Come on, Lynch. Let’s go inside.”

*

As soon as they enter, Adam wants to leave. Something about this place, about the crowd of Aglionby guys with their expensive suits and their beautiful dates with equally as expensive dresses makes him nauseous. It only lasts for a moment, though; then he spots Blue, Gansey, and the two Henrys in the corner, and feels Ronan’s hand in his, and everything else is just irrelevant background noise.

“I can’t believe you took longer than us to get here,” Gansey tells them. Then his eyes go wide. “Oh, god. Did you stop to—“

“ _Gansey_ ,” Adam hisses, ears turning pink. “God, no.”

Ronan shrugs. “I mean, _I_ wanted to, but Parrish didn’t want to wrinkle his suit.”

“I don’t blame him,” Henry Cheng says. “It’s a nice suit. Fashion always comes before fucking.”

Ronan snorts. “And which dumbass made up that rule?”

“Our lord and savior Jesus Christ, of course.”

“Keep Jesus out of this, Cheng.”

Their banter continues for a few more minutes, and Adam uses the opportunity to look around. He regrets it almost immediately, when he locks eyes with Tad and Tad breaks into a surprised smile. Adam looks away as fast as he can, but it’s too late; Tad is already walking over to him, apparently not having spotted Ronan yet, perhaps too focused on Adam to notice anything else.

Ronan sees Tad as he’s walking over to them, though, turning stiff, and Adam notices the moment that Tad realizes who is with Adam and his eyes turn a little terrified. He must be brave, though, because he keeps walking over, and when he reaches Adam, he does his best to ignore Ronan glaring daggers at him.

His voice is a little too high when he says, “Adam! Hi. You’re here.”

“Yup.” Adam always tries to be short with Tad in the hopes that he’ll leave him alone. It hasn’t worked thus far, but Adam can hope.

“You look nice.” At Ronan’s murderous look, Tad clears his throat. “Hi, Lynch. I didn’t know… I thought Adam bought one ticket and…”

Ronan smiles at him, all cold, sharp teeth. “Carruthers, you should get back to your date and stop flirting with mine before I have to make you.”

Tad turns red and stammers something unintelligible before running away so quickly that he nearly trips over his own feet.

“Well,” Adam says after a moment of silence, “I think you’ve definitely scared him away for good.”

“The power of Lynch,” Cheng agrees.

“Guys? If your macho pissing contest is over, we should sit down and get some food,” Blue says.

Adam nods. “Food sounds good.”

Once they all sit down at a round table with delicious looking food from the buffet, Adam nudges Ronan’s leg with his own and whispers, “You know, Tad looked pretty handsome tonight, don’t you think?”

Ronan shoves his shoulder and glares at him. “You asshole.”

Adam just responds with a shit-eating grin.

“By the way,” Ronan starts, casually, “You never mentioned who the other guys who asked you were.”

Adam gives him an unimpressed look. “Ronan.”

Ronan raises his hands up defensively. “I’m not going to do anything. I just want to know.”

“Is your definition of ‘doing nothing’ being a jealous, possessive douchebag, then?” Adam shoots back.

Ronan clenches his jaw. “Whatever.”

Adam hadn’t noticed how quiet the table had gotten. Gansey is giving them a concerned look.

“We’re fine,” Adam says, sighing. “Ronan is just a jealous dick.”

“So nothing new then,” Cheng says.

“Basically.”

“I’m getting something to drink,” Ronan mutters, getting up from his chair rather aggressively and walking away.

Adam fidgets with the sleeve of his jacket, not looking at the other four, who thankfully don’t say anything and go back to their conversation.

This isn’t how he wanted this night to go. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten annoyed; Ronan was often jealous, and this wasn’t much worse than his typical behavior when he got jealous. It’s frustrating how quickly they can go from a normal conversation to a fight, but it’s not surprising. It’s always been like that for them.

When Ronan comes back, he has a glass of ginger ale with him, which he places next to Adam’s plate with a muttered _here, Parrish_ before continuing to glare at the table. Ginger ale is Adam’s favorite soda.

“Thanks,” Adam says softly, his gaze intense on the side of Ronan’s face. Ronan turns his head and meets Adam’s stare. Adam gives him a small smile and takes his hand underneath the table. Ronan rolls his eyes, but his lips quirk, just a little.

“It looks like you two are the stars of the show tonight,” Gansey points out, gaze wandering around the hall, where all the students and their dates are milling about. Adam understands his point; there are an exceptional amount of Aglionby boys staring at them, who have been staring at him since they walked in.

Adam is glad there are no taunts and jibes thus far tonight; the four in their group and Tad with his date are the only boys that are here together, even though a couple more are out.

“They’re probably just surprised Ronan is here,” Adam says, shrugging. “They saw us together all the time before he dropped out, so it’s not like that’s a surprise.”

“Or maybe they’re staring at Parrish in his tux,” Ronan says, his mouth full of pasta.

Adam bumps his shoulder, and Ronan bumps back.

It’s not long before everyone starts dancing. It’s mostly fast, upbeat songs, and Blue, Gansey, and the two Henrys are all dancing together in the center. They tried to convince Ronan and Adam to join them, but Ronan refused and Adam is too bad of a dancer to embarrass himself in public like that.

“I thought you said you’d dance, Lynch,” Adam says, raising his eyebrows.

“I will,” Ronan says. “With _you_. I didn’t agree to _that.”_ He tilts his chin to Blue and Henry going a little wild on the dance floor, limbs flailing everywhere but in a way that looked surprisingly good.

After a while, Henry comes back to the table, sitting on the other side of Adam, and Henry Broadway goes to socialize with his other friends. A slow song is playing, and Blue and Gansey are dancing to it while looking into each other’s eyes in a way that Ronan claims makes him nauseous.

Henry’s expression is carefully neutral as he looks at them.

Ronan notes Henry’s wistful gaze. “Cheng, be a little less obvious, would you?”

Henry scowls at Ronan. “Mind your own business, Lynch.”

“You should talk to them,” Adam tells him, voice low.

Henry shakes his head, expression sad. “And what exactly will that do?”

Ronan narrows his eyes at Henry. “Does Broadway know about your little crush?”

Henry stares at Ronan blankly, then lets out a light laugh. “Me and Cheng Two? Yeah, in his dreams. We’re just friends.”

Ronan is about to respond, but then the music changes to an upbeat song again, and Blue and Gansey come to whisk Henry away, Cheng Two joining them soon after.

Ronan and Adam stay at the table for a while, Ronan whispering insults about and doing ridiculous impressions of their classmates in Adam’s ear and Adam laughing so hard that he chokes on his water.

When a slow song comes on again, a beautiful, almost haunting melody, and the DJ invites “all the couples madly in love” onto the dance floor, Adam looks at Ronan to find that Ronan was already looking at him. There’s an uncertainty in his eyes that matches Adam’s.

“So,” Ronan says, “About that dance…”

But there’s dread in his voice that Adam realizes he feels as well. Neither of them want to do this. But Adam knows it’s not for the reason that most people would think.

It’s not about the other Aglionby boys’ opinions; At this point, either of them could care less what they think. But his relationship with Ronan is _theirs_ , and something like this is far too intimate and private for prying eyes. They’ve been open about affection in front of their friends since very early on, when they were both too touch starved to stop themselves from curling into each other whenever possible, but when it comes to the rest of the world, _especially_ Aglionby, Adam doesn’t want to do this here, and he suspects that Ronan feels the same way.

Plus, Adam really cannot wait to get Ronan out of that tux. Or maybe just fuck him while he’s still wearing the suit. He’s fine with either scenario, really.

Clutching Ronan’s hand, Adam murmurs, “Want to get out of here first?”

Ronan’s grin is a knife’s edge. Adam wants to swallow it. “Read my mind, Parrish.”

*

Gansey, Blue, and Henry try to convince them to stay for longer, but Ronan doesn’t even let Gansey finish his sentence before he’s whisking Adam out the door.

When they get in the car, Ronan asks, “Where do you want to go?”

Adam almost says back to the Barns, but then reconsiders. “Just drive.”

Ronan’s smirk is sinful. They drive and drive and drive, past Monmouth and St. Agnes and even past the Barns, into the mountains. They don’t speak, but the fleeting glances and small touches are enough to make Adam feel warm inside.

They’ve reached a clearing far up when Ronan parks the BMW and gets out and Adam follows him. They lay on the hood of the car, shoulders pressed together and fingers intertwined, the town twinkling below them and the stars bright up above.

“So,” Ronan says.

“So,” Adam echoes.

“Prom was…”

“It was okay.”

Ronan turns his head to look at Adam and raises his eyebrows. “Not everything you dreamed of, Parrish?” His tone is sarcastic, but there’s something else there, too.

“No Aglionby event could be everything I dreamed of, Lynch. But it was fun for a bit. I’m glad we went.”

“Yeah.”

Adam stares. “Yeah as in _you’re_ glad we went?”

Ronan shrugs noncommittally.

“Who are you and what have you done with Ronan Lynch?”

“I already told you, Parrish, I wasn’t there for Aglionby.” Ronan swallows audibly, seemingly preparing himself for something. “And… before I found out about your ticket, I… may or may not have been thinking of asking you anyways.”

A wave of shock pulsates through Adam. “You— _what?_ Why?”

Ronan doesn’t say anything.

“Ronan.”

Ronan sighs. “Remember junior prom?”

Adam frowns. “Um, no, I didn’t go.”

He was with Blue at that point, and part of it was being too afraid to ask her and too busy with everything else, but the main thing stopping him was that he wouldn’t have been able to afford it anyways. Prom hadn’t even particularly appealed to him then, but it had stung that he couldn’t go even if he wanted to. It stung even more when he realized that pretty much everyone in his class – except for Ronan, of course – was attending it. He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that everyone probably knew he wasn’t there because he didn’t have enough money to pay for it.

“Yeah, I know. I mean—when it happened. Gansey was the only one of us who went. With some random girl that Helen set him up with. And when he told us he was going, you got this miserable fucking look on your face. And I know it was because you were being an overthinking dumbass as usual and worrying about what those Aglionby assholes thought but—you still wanted to go.”

“Ronan—“

“Just, let me finish, Parrish.” Ronan is looking at the sky, now, not able to meet Adam’s eyes. “I just—you deserve to get everything you want, alright? I didn’t want you to miss out on anything. Even if it was something as stupid as fucking Aglionby prom.”

There’s a lump in Adam’s throat. He moves closer to Ronan, lays his head on his chest. He can’t seem to say anything except, “Ronan.”

Ronan exhales shakily. “That’s not—that’s not the only reason.”

Adam lifts his head. “Then what?”

“I…” Ronan trails off, still staring past Adam’s face.

Adam knows that it’s still hard for Ronan to express himself in words, so he gently runs a hand over Ronan’s cheekbone, his forehead, his nose, his mouth, leaving a soft kiss at the corner of his eye.

Ronan lets out another breath. “Everyone’s leaving.”

Adam sucks in a breath.

Ronan swallows and closes his eyes, then keeps going. “There’s still… there’s still time until you go, but there’s barely a month left until Blue, Gansey, and Henry leave. And then… then you’ll be gone, too. And I just… this is one of the last… I didn’t want to miss out on any moments. Even dumb shit like this.”

When Ronan opens his eyes, he’s laid completely bare, his vulnerability and insecurity shining through his gaze.

Adam kisses him, deep and long and lingering, trying to say _we’re coming back, we’re coming back, we’re coming back_ with his lips.

Adam wonders how much of Ronan’s over the top jealousy about Tad and the other boys had to do with this particular line of thought.

Adam says, “That was pretty impressive.”

Ronan raises an eyebrow. “What was?”

“Just… that whole speech. I’m just thinking about how far we’ve come. I mean, you told me what you were feeling in _words_ , Ronan. Completely unprompted, too. I’m pretty shocked, to be honest.”

“Shut up, you dickhead,” Ronan says, laughing.

Adam grins. “Seriously. I feel like I should give you a reward or something.”

Ronan smirks. “Well, I can think of plenty of rewards you can give me.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “You wish.” But he kisses Ronan a second later, his hand traveling over his chest.

Then he pulls away, a realizing hitting him with surprising force. “You came over that night.”

“What night?”

“Junior prom. You came over to St. Agnes that night. I remember. And you kept talking about how dumb prom was and making fun of everyone we knew and—“ Adam exhales, remembering how Ronan had distracted him so skillfully and thoroughly that night, making him laugh so hard he almost cried.

He can’t believe he almost forgot. He can’t believe he didn’t put the pieces together until tonight. He can’t believe that Ronan can keep surprising him like this even after all these months.

He hopes that he never stops surprising him.

Ronan just looks at him meaningfully.

“God,” Adam says, voice thick. “You asshole. I love you.”

And then he’s attacking Ronan’s mouth with his own, his kisses getting furious and hungry, nearly devouring him.

Ronan responds enthusiastically, but after a minute or two of this, Ronan pushes lightly as Adam’s chest. Adam rolls over, letting out a slightly pathetic whine as Ronan sits up, his chest heaving.

“Wait,” Ronan says, breathing hard.

Adam sits up, too. “What?”

Ronan’s cheeks are flushed, but Adam can’t tell if it’s from the kissing or from something else. “I think I promised you a dance, Parrish.”

Adam stills. “You—oh.”

Ronan looks uncertain. “I mean, if you want.”

Adam doesn’t say anything, his mind suddenly in overdrive.

Ronan’s face closes up a little. “Forget it—“

“No,” Adam says quickly. “I just—you won’t be able to prove to Blue or Henry that you did it.”

Ronan shrugs. “I don’t care. They don't have to know.”

The knowledge that Ronan Lynch actually wants to dance with Adam Parrish out of his own free will settles in Adam’s bones.

“There’s no music. Unless you want to dance to your terrible EDM, in which case you can leave me out of it.”

Ronan gets up off the hood and walks over to the driver’s side drawer, opening it and fiddling with the stereo.

Adam stands up too. “Ronan, are you really—“

Suddenly, a soft melody starts playing. It sounds familiar, but Adam can’t—

“ _Oh._ ”

The song is Fly Me To The Moon.

Ronan closes the car door and walks over to where Adam is, running a nervous hand over his shaved head.

Adam takes one hand in his. “Did you dream another mixtape?”

Ronan shakes his head. “My dad dreamed it, I think. It’s been in one of the compartments of the BMW since forever.”

“Oh.”

Ronan takes Adam’s other hand. “So?”

Adam purses his lips. “I want to, but I… I’ve never danced before.”

Ronan gapes at him. “You what?”

Adam can feel his face heat up. “It’s not like my parents ever danced to this in the kitchen! And I could never go to any after school dances or anything, okay?”

Ronan’s face softens, and he starts leading him a few feet away from the car. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

It’s absurd that Adam feels nervous, but for some reason he can’t stop the damn butterflies in his stomach.

Ronan puts his hands around Adam’s waist, and Adam places his on Ronan’s shoulder.

“Now what?” Adam whispers.

“Follow my lead.”

Adam tries, and spectacularly fails. He keeps stepping on Ronan’s toes and tripping over his own feet.

“The fuck are you— _Ouch_. Christ, Parrish, it’s not a fucking waltz, you just have to— _Fuck!_ ”

Adam’s cheeks are bright red. “God, sorry, sorry.”

Ronan sighs. “It’s fine, just—“ And then Ronan pulls him even closer, so that Adam’s chin is on Ronan’s shoulder, his fingers clutching the back of Ronan’s neck.

Adam exhales and presses a light kiss to Ronan’s throat, making Ronan shiver.

“Just follow me, Parrish,” Ronan murmurs. “Don’t overthink it.”

“Okay,” Adam breathes.

The song has changed by now, though it’s equally as beautiful as the last one. Soon, Adam is able to find his footing, and they sway gently to the music, holding each other tight. Adam feels so incredibly safe and warm like this, under the stars in Ronan’s arms, his nose pressed to the smooth skin of Ronan’s neck, breathing him in.

“You’re a good dancer,” Adam says after a while. “I’m guessing you’ve done this before. Are there any other boys you’ve slow danced with that I should be jealous of?”

Ronan snorts. “No other boys, no.”

“Girls, then?”

A pause. “My mom.”

Adam holds Ronan tighter. Ronan leans into him further.

Ronan adds, “Besides, Parrish, this is hardly _dancing_.”

“What exactly do you consider dancing, then?”

“Depends. A lap dance is a pretty reputable type, in my opinion.”

Adam laughs silently against Ronan’s shoulder. “You’re gonna dance for me then, Lynch?”

“I was hoping you’d dance for me, actually.”

“Well, as you’ve just witnessed, I don’t think there’d be anything attractive about that if I’m the one to do it.”

“Everything you do is attractive,” Ronan replies, rather absentmindedly.

Adam grins.

“Shut up,” Ronan says.

“I didn’t say anything.”

They dance for a while longer, attempting a few spins and tilts that end up with them on the ground, laughing.

Soon enough, Adam is on top of Ronan, kissing him slowly, their mouths moving lazily against each other. Adam pulls back a little and looks at Ronan’s face. He looks particularly beautiful in this light. And in these clothes, of course.

Adam doesn’t even notice when his fingers automatically start fiddling with Ronan’s bowtie and slipping under his dress shirt.

“It really is unfair how good you look in a suit,” Adam says, voice breathy.

Ronan grins smugly and kisses the corner of Adam’s mouth. Adam’s hand goes to his scalp and holds him there, their kisses getting deeper. When Ronan’s teeth scrape Adam’s bottom lip, Adam moans softly and then starts kissing Ronan’s neck.

“God,” Adam says between furious kisses. “You’ve been torturing me all night, Lynch.”

“You have it that bad, Parrish?” But Ronan’s voice is rough and strained.

“You can’t,” – a kiss to Ronan’s jaw – “wear something like that,” – his ear – “and expect me to,” – biting his earlobe, eliciting a groan – “keep it together,” – his lips, finally – “you fucking asshole.”

Ronan’s cheeks and lips are deliciously pink, his breaths coming out in pants. “What are you going to do about it, then?”

Adam knows his pupils are probably blown wild. He feels feral, unhinged. “I haven’t fucked you in the BMW yet.”

Ronan’s eyes are dark and hungry on his. “No, you haven’t.”

After, when they’re laying together in the backseat, all their clothes discarded and the windows of the car all fogged up, Ronan murmurs, “Hope you made the most of that slow dance, Parrish, because that shit’s never happening again.”

Adam hides a smile in the crook of Ronan’s neck. “Whatever.”

They both know it’s a lie.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things about this chapter:  
> \- Initially I wasn't sure if I was going to go the Sarchengsey route in this fic just because I'm not invested enough to actually write it in and do it justice, but I went with it anyways. It won't be super detailed because this is a Pynch fic and only has Adam and Ronan's POV's, but eventually their situation will be expanded on.  
> \- The nightmare scene was the one I was the most unsure about. I generally tread carefully when it comes to hurt/comfort based on Adam's abuse, and I only added it here because I feel like I needed to have Something addressing Adam's state of mind about it before we get to the epilogue. Adam in the epilogue is incredibly confident and sure of himself, and the Adam in this fic still had a little way to go to get to that point, so I thought this was necessary. He _still_ has some time to go before he gets there, and that will all be addressed in the next chapter. Also, I feel like it's pretty inevitable that Adam would have run into his parents a couple times, and I didn't want to go into too much detail about that because who needs more Robert Parrish, but I did want to briefly mention it and how it went down.  
>  \- The last scene is probably a little rushed and I wanted to drag it out a bit more and add more fluff and boys in love, but this chapter was already too long and again, took way too much time to get out (to be fair I did post a few other shorter Pynch things in between, but still. Three months was too long), so I just wrapped it up quickly.  
> \- The next chapter should be up much quicker because I already started writing a bit of it even before I finished this one, and my plan for it is much more concrete. But fair warning, it gets pretty angsty.  
> \- For those of you asking if Ronan will fuck Adam eventually, it'll happen. Be patient. I have a specific point in their relationship planned for that.  
> \- Lastly, please do leave a comment with your thoughts. Thank you for all the support for this fic, it means a lot <3


	17. a house is not a home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wants to smile at Ronan teasingly and say, _Don’t be an idiot, Lynch. Of course I’ll move in eventually_. He wants to kiss him and say, _I want to stay with you in this place made of magic and love for as long as you want me_. He wants to say, _I love you. That’s what we’re doing here._ He doesn’t say any of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO. I am here. Finishing this chapter after an entire year. I have no excuse except that writing is hard. Hopefully people still care about this fic? Full disclosure, I'm not quite happy with this chapter, I planned out the majority of it in 2016 and wrote a third of it in early 2017 so like, there are definitely things I would do differently if I was planning it now. But if I changed around my whole outline it would probably take me another year to finish it and no one wants that. So have this probably OOC shit. This chapter is about the TRK epilogue so it does discuss Adam's abuse quite a bit.

They're at St. Agnes in the first days of June, Adam working on his Latin homework at his desk and Ronan playing a game on his laptop on the bed with Chainsaw.

“Lynch,” Adam says, the first either of them has spoken in nearly an hour. “Come here.”

“Why?”

Adam sighs and turns to look at the other boy. “I need help.”

Ronan’s voice is disbelieving. “You want _me_ to help _you_ with homework?”

Adam crosses his arms and stares at Ronan. “Well, don’t rub it in. It’s Latin.”

Ronan’s lips turn up into a predatory smile. Before he can say anything, Adam adds, in the most mature fashion that he can, “Shut up.” His pride nearly makes him reconsider, but he swallows it down and adds, “Just read this essay and tell me if there are any mistakes.”

Ronan scoffs. “I thought you said my Latin grammar is terrible.”

“It _is_ terrible. Somehow you were still top of the class when you were at school, though, so you must be good for something.”

“Damn, Parrish, I love when you say things like that. Really makes me feel appreciated,” Ronan says as he gets off the bed and sits down on the floor next to the desk.

Adam hands him the essay and says, with difficulty, “My vocabulary’s not that great, so pay attention to that.”

Ronan’s ever-present smirk grows wider.

“Shut _up_.”

Ronan starts humming the Murder Squash Song. Adam grits his teeth.

Ronan grimaces as he stares at Adam’s paper. “Shit, I’m so fucking glad I don’t have to go to Latin anymore.”

Adam raises an eyebrow. “Are you? I thought you liked it. I mean, you did show up early to almost every class.”

Ronan raises an eyebrow. “Well, yeah, but so did you.”

Adam frowns. “But that’s because—oh my _god_.”

Ronan grins smugly as the realization hits Adam. “You’re real slow on the uptake, Parrish.”

Adam hides his face in his hands. “I can’t believe you.”

“What, did you think I showed up at ass o’ clock in the morning at that shithole to admire the architecture?”

“Well, no, but…” Adam faltered, not knowing why he was oblivious to it for so long. It’s not like he hadn’t known about Ronan’s feelings during many of those mornings. “I just thought you really liked Latin.”

“I didn’t like Latin _class_. Especially with the fucking teachers we had.”

Adam runs a hand through his hair and looks down, unable to stop a large smile from breaking over his face. “I can’t believe you really came to class early at a place you hate just to spend time with me.”

When he sneaks a glance at Ronan, the other boy looks pleased at being found out instead of embarrassed, for once.

“You clearly needed the company.”

Adam remembers the loneliness, when he was still in his parents’ trailer and miserable, remembers the acute fear of no one understanding him. No one but Ronan. Then, after Cabeswater, when he pulled away and everyone else let him. Everyone but Ronan. Ronan, who only got closer.

“Yeah,” Adam confesses. “I kind of did.” Then, dryly, “I’m sure that was your only motive, Lynch. Your flirting attempts were pathetic.”

“They can’t have been that pathetic if they _worked_.”

Adam pointedly ignores this. “You just came to class to stare at me all the time.”

“And you’re just now figuring this out?” Ronan shoots back.

Adam scoffs, mainly to combat the way his ears are turning pink. “Obviously not.”

Ronan just raises a knowing eyebrow again.

Adam rests his elbow on his desk and his head on his hand and looks at Ronan. Looks at him for endless seconds. Ronan seems to grow restless under Adam’s gaze.

Ronan rolls his eyes at Adam’s staring. “What, Parrish?”

Adam smiles at him and reaches out with his other hand, gently tracing the shell of Ronan’s ear. Ronan smiles back briefly, and turns his face in to kiss Adam’s palm.

Then he pushes Adam’s hand away and holds up the essay. “Do you want me to look this over or not?”

Adam almost forgot. He clears his throat. “Yeah. Go ahead.”

He watches Ronan as he corrects his essay, eyes narrowing at all the writing he seems to be doing on the paper. Adam doesn’t think he had _that_ many mistakes.

There’s something unreal about watching Ronan Lynch focus that hard on an academic paper, his eyebrows furrowed in intense concentration.

When he finally hands the paper back, there are red marks all over it.

Adam stares at Ronan incredulously. “What the hell, Ronan?”

Ronan shrugs. “You could do better.”

Adam crosses his arms. “Excuse me?”

“Come on, I’ve read your shit before. Your head clearly wasn’t in this one. It’s sloppy.”

This entire conversation feels bizarre to Adam. “Well, sorry,” Adam retorts, some bite in his voice. “I’ve been a little exhausted lately, what with finals and working all the fucking time.”

Ronan’s voice and expression soften. “I know you have, Parrish.” His gaze drops to the paper in Adam’s hand. “Give me the essay. I’ll rewrite and fix it for you.”

Adam clutches it tighter. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not? I used to do your Latin homework for you.”

Adam falters, remembering the nights he unintentionally fell asleep at his desk while in the middle of homework, only to find a pillow underneath his head and his Latin homework magically finished. Way before he and Ronan had even started dating.

“That was different. And you did that without ever _asking_ me.”

“Adam—“

“I’ll do it, Lynch. You looking it over was enough, so thanks.” Adam skims the page, and recognizes that everything Ronan wrote was correct. He finds himself annoyingly impressed. And also slightly embarrassed of himself.

Ronan sighs. “Fine, then at least take a fucking break.”

“I don’t have time to—“

“ _Adam._ ”

Suddenly there are lips on the back of his neck, and well, that’s just unfair.

“Ronan,” Adam warns, his temper rising irrationally. Ronan should know by now not to distract him like _that_ when he needs to focus. He has too many things to do, too little time.

Hands knead into his shoulders, and Adam lets out a sigh. “ _Ronan_.”

“You’ve been studying for three hours. You can take a break for ten minutes.”

Adam turns to look at Ronan and raises an eyebrow. “Only ten minutes?”

Ronan looks amused. “Christ, Parrish, I know I’m hot, but do you ever think about anything else? I was gonna say you should take a nap or something.”

Adam picks up his pencil again. “Asshole.”

Ronan gently puts his hand over Adam’s. Adam drops his pencil. “Parrish. I’m serious. Take a fucking break.”

Adam’s hands automatically clench into fists, and he knows Ronan can feel it by the tightening of his expression.

But then Adam takes a deep breath, and says, “Okay.”

Ronan’s eyebrows go nearly up to his hairline. “Okay? Just like that? I really thought there’d be at least another hour of arguing before you got your head out of your ass.”

Adam glares at him. “Shut up before I kick you out, Lynch.”

Ronan holds his hands out in mock surrender. Adam gets up and stretches for the first time in hours. God, his entire body feels sore.

“Get off the pillow, Chainsaw,” Ronan snaps at his bird, who is currently pecking at the pillow Ronan dreamt for him months ago. “Parrish needs a nap.” 

Adam grabs the front of Ronan’s t-shirt, making Ronan turn to him questioningly. “Never said I was going to nap.” He glances at the mattress, then back at Ronan. “I still might need the pillow though. And definitely the bed.”

Adam found he wasn’t that tired anymore. 

Ronan looks surprised, then indicates Chainsaw. “It’s not appropriate for her to watch.”

Adam walks over to the window and lifts up the screen. “Come on Chainsaw, take a few rounds around the church.”

Chainsaw lands on Adam’s shoulder, nuzzles his neck, then flies off into the night.

Adam closes the window and walks back to Ronan, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Ronan doesn’t respond, but soon Adam has to kiss the incredibly pleased grin off his face, and push him back onto the mattress.

 

*

 

After, they’re both panting and sweat slicked, and Ronan has a slightly dazed look on his face, as he often does after Adam fucks him. Or does anything to him, really.

Adam has been staring at the ceiling for a while when Ronan says, “What is it, Parrish?”

Adam blinks and turns to Ronan, confused. “What?”

Ronan rolls his eyes, looking at him as if Adam is playing dumb. “I can tell when you’re overthinking something with my eyes closed, man.”

Adam scratches his surely reddening cheeks. “I wasn’t—“

“Adam.”

Adam sighs. “Um… Okay. You—you enjoyed that, right?”

“Enjoyed you overthinking? Not really, it’s one of your more irritating qualities.”

Adam swats him on the chest, and Ronan laughs. “Be serious for a second, _asshole_. I meant, did you enjoy what we just did?”

“I’m sorry, I’m meant to be serious when you’re asking me _that_? Maybe that terrible Latin essay wasn’t a one off and you’re just a fucking idiot.”

Adam groans and throws an arm over his eyes. “You know what? Nevermind. You’re impossible.”

“Hey, come on,” Ronan says, pulling at Adam’s arm. “Yes, Parrish, believe it or not, I do like it when you fuck me. Otherwise I wouldn’t be doing it. Where exactly were you planning on going with that line of questioning?”

Adam looks at Ronan, and it takes about ten seconds for it to register, at which point Ronan’s expression turns completely blank.

Adam scratches at his cheek again. “I just, um, didn’t know if you’d want to, you know, switch positions,” Adam says, carefully. “But I’m not—I don’t think I want to—uh. You know.”

It's something he'd been thinking about for a while. He'd known for so long that he wanted to fuck Ronan, had started thinking and fantasizing about it soon after they got together. But he hadn't considered the opposite situation until the possibility of sex became more of a reality, until he realized that would probably be something that Ronan would want eventually.

Adam isn’t sure he wants that. In fact, he’s pretty sure that he really doesn’t. The idea of it scares him, and he doesn’t know why, exactly. It feels foreign, and strange, and most of all, he doesn’t think he can just— _let go_ like that. He sees the way Ronan is when he fucks him, the way he completely gives in to the pleasure, lets Adam do whatever he wants to him. Adam doesn’t think he can do that, let someone else take the reins, lose all of his control.

It’s silent for a long, fearful moment, before Ronan says, simply, “Okay.”

Adam turns fully on his side and stares at Ronan. “Okay? So you’re not… I mean, you didn’t want to—“

Ronan scowls. “It doesn’t fucking matter. Like I fucking said, I’m good with what we’re doing now.”

Adam knits his brows, still feeling a little bad. “Are you—“

“I’m sure. Trust me, Parrish, I’d be perfectly happy if we did nothing but that for the rest of our damn lives.”

Adam is rendered speechless. It takes a few moments for Ronan to realize what he said.

Adam’s smile is smug and blinding. Ronan gives him a dirty look, takes the pillow underneath his head, and tries to smother Adam with it. Adam pushes it off and laughs.

“Guess I didn’t have to be worried about telling you then, since you like getting fucked _that_ much.”

“’Course not,” Ronan says gruffly. Then, looking upset, “Why the fuck were you worried?”

Adam looks sheepish. “I mean, I wasn’t—um. I don’t know, I just didn’t know how to bring it up. And… if it’s something you really wanted, I—“ He breaks off, biting his lip.

Ronan absentmindedly combs his fingers through Adam’s hair. “You’re a fucking idiot, Parrish.”

Adam swats his hand away and glares at him.

Ronan rolls his eyes and kisses Adam’s forehead, his hand now rubbing soothing circles on Adam’s hip.

They stay like that for a while, and then Adam sighs. “I need to study.”

“So go study. Fix that embarrassment of a Latin essay.”

Adam shoves Ronan off the mattress.

 

*

 

Later that night, they’re sprawled on the bed, Ronan with Chainsaw on his chest and Adam staring at the ceiling. His hand is at his deaf ear, pulling the lobe lightly with his pointer finger and thumb.

He doesn’t realize he’s doing it until Ronan asks, “What’s wrong?”

Absentmindedly, Adam replies, “Nothing.” He’s still staring at the ceiling.

Distantly, Adam registers Ronan sitting up and setting Chainsaw down on the table beside the mattress. Chainsaw lets out a forlorn squawk.

Suddenly Ronan’s face is above Adam’s as he leans over him. He gently touches Adam’s hand, which is still pulling at his deaf ear.

Adam abruptly stops and drops his hand. He blinks up at Ronan, but doesn’t say anything.

“What’s wrong,” Ronan says again, voice quiet.

“It’s nothing. Really.”

“Parrish.”

Adam sighs. The concerned look on Ronan’s face means he’s unlikely to budge anytime soon. So he settles for a partial truth.

“I banged my head in the shower today.”

Ronan’s eyes widen. “Shit. You didn’t say—does it hurt? Did I hurt you when--?”

Adam shakes his head. “No, Ronan, it’s fine. It barely hurts. It just… I wasn’t paying attention and because of my ear…” Adam swallows. “It’s not a big deal.”

Ronan looks at him, his eyes seeing through him as they always do. Slowly, so Adam can stop him if he wants, he touches the shell of Adam’s deaf ear, tracing it with the tips of his fingers, looking at Adam in a way that makes it difficult to breathe.

Adam is used to these things, really. He’s used to not hearing it when someone calls him from another room, and used to accidentally sitting on the wrong side of someone and then having to adjust, and used to putting both earbuds in before remembering there’s no point. There is always a slight shame that fills Adam when this happens in front of other people, even and sometimes especially with Ronan,  but Adam isn’t ashamed, this time. He’s just tired.

Besides, that isn’t all he’s thinking about. It’s just the impetus for the rest of the thoughts that fill his brain, ideas that he isn’t sure he won’t regret later.

“I’m exhausted,” Adam whispers. “Can we just sleep?”

Ronan’s eyes tighten, but he nods. He kisses Adam’s forehead, and soon they’re tangled up in each other.

But Adam doesn’t get any sleep that night.

 

*

 

The next day, they're at the Barns, sprawled on the couch, Ronan on top of him and sucking a bruise into his neck. Adam is shirtless and breathing heavily, his hands sliding under Ronan's tank and feeling the muscles of his abdomen. Adam is about to slip his fingers underneath Ronan's waistband when Ronan suddenly pulls back. 

Adam lets out an involuntarily whimper, and whines, "Come back here, Lynch," grabbing the back of Ronan's neck to bring him down to Adam's lips.

Ronan holds firm, though, unwrapping Adam's hands and sitting up on his knees. "Hold on, Parrish. I need to talk to you."

Adam is too horny at the moment to notice the nervousness in Ronan's voice. "We can talk later. Just kiss me." He tries to pull Ronan back down, but the other boy refuses to budge.

“ _Adam_.”

Adam lets out a frustrated noise and sits up. “ _What?_ ” Adam snaps. He's already in a bad mood and he was looking forward to drowning it all out in Ronan's lips, but the other boy is making that a little hard.

Ronan runs a hand over his shaved head and gets off of Adam’s lap, leaning back on the couch. "Are you renewing the lease for your apartment?"

Adam stares at him blankly. "What?"

Ronan looks like he's warring with himself. His tone is clipped. "St. Agnes, Parrish. Are you planning on renewing your lease when the month is up?"

Adam furrows his brows. His mind is still in a lustful haze. "Um, yeah, I'm planning on it. Why?"

A muscle twitches in Ronan's jaw, and it's only then that Adam realizes what Ronan is really asking.

He panics. After all these months, after all the effort he'd put into starting to accept the Barns as a possible home for him too, this shouldn't make him panic. But it does, and he hates himself for it. He hopes that Ronan won't push any further, won't—

"Adam. Move in here."

Adam can't breath properly. His voice comes out strangled when he asks, dumbly, "What?"

"Move into the Barns with me."

Adam swallows audibly. “Ronan…” Adam is looking at Ronan with desperation. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want to say no, but he can’t say yes. He isn’t sure what’s stopping him, but whatever it is, it’s strong. It’s making his throat close up and his eyes burn.

Ronan sees Adam’s unsaid answer in his eyes, in his pleading voice. Adam can tell how hard he’s trying to keep the hurt and anger from exploding.

“Parrish, you already stay here more nights a week than you do at St. Agnes. You have a key and half of your shit is in the drawers upstairs. I mean, you’re practically moved in already. So what’s the problem?”

“Lynch, stop,” Adam says, standing up and shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

Ronan stands up too, and he takes Adam’s face in his hands, his thumb rubbing circles on Adam’s cheekbones. Adam can’t look at him.

“Adam.”

Adam doesn’t say anything.

“Parrish. Shit, come on, look at me.”

Adam doesn’t look at him. His mind is going somewhere far away. Somewhere far less pleasant and warm than the Barns.

Ronan lets out a tired sigh and moves back, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “What are you going to do, then, Parrish? Are you going to keep paying for your apartment even when you’re all the way in fucking New York?”

Adam’s voice is toneless. His hand is at his deaf ear, tugging at his earlobe over and over again. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t _know_ , Ronan.”

“Indefinitely?”

Adam finally meets Ronan’s eyes, his glare scorching.

“Tell me one thing, Parrish. Are you saying you won’t move in now, or that you won’t move in ever?”

Adam doesn’t say anything. His hands are fists at his sides. He knows he should say something, anything, because silence is the worst possible answer he could give. He knows Ronan would come to the wrong conclusion. The thing is, he doesn’t know what the right conclusion _is_. His mind is too tangled. Everything is too overwhelming. 

When the silence extends for too long, Ronan’s expression crumples, just for a moment. The hurt in his eyes is so visceral in that second that Adam wants nothing more than to throw his arms around him, to find the words to reassure him. But he can’t.

Ronan looks drained, almost defeated. “Then what the hell are we doing here, Adam?”

Adam still doesn’t say anything.

He wants to smile at Ronan teasingly and say, _Don’t be an idiot, Lynch. Of course I’ll move in eventually._ He wants to kiss him and say, _I want to stay with you in this place made of magic and love for as long as you want me._ He wants to say, _I love you. That’s what we’re doing here_.

He doesn’t say any of it.

“Right,” Ronan says, voice a rasp and face back to his disinterested mask. “Right. Fucking fantastic.”

“Ronan.” Adam can’t get any other words out.

“Stop saying my fucking name and say what you mean, Parrish,” Ronan snaps.

The anger in Ronan’s voice sparks Adam’s own, another reminder of how that anger is always there beneath the surface, how his past will always be with him, no matter what. More reason to say no.

“And what do you think I mean, exactly?” Adam spits, nails digging into the palms of his hands.

Ronan sneers, suddenly a predator hunting its prey. “You tell me, Parrish. The hell are you trying to prove? Are you really that fucking prideful that you’d rather stay in that shitty apartment the size of a cardboard box than here?”

Adam’s anger goes from a match to a forest fire. His nails dig in ever deeper in his fists, nearly drawing blood. “And what exactly is _here_ , Ronan? What’s so great here that you’d automatically assume I’d want to stay in this place with you?”

Ronan goes still as stone, looking at Adam as if he’s slapped him. The expression of pure shock and hurt on his face makes Adam’s anger dissipate immediately, shame and regret taking its place.

“I didn’t—“ Adam swallows, tries again. “Fuck. I didn’t mean that.”

Ronan’s voice is emotionless, hollow. “Right.”

“Ronan, I didn’t mean that. I—God. What do you want me to say here?” _I don’t know what I’m doing. I should know by now but I don’t_.

“Nothing, Parrish. I don’t want you to say anything.”

Frustration wells up inside Adam, threatening to burst out in the form of even more cruel words. He takes a deep breath, two, three. “I have to go to work. I can come over tonight and we can—”

“Don’t fucking bother,” Ronan says harshly.

Adam clenches his jaw, his annoyance and stubborn pride momentarily winning over the desire to make things right. “Fine. I won’t.”

“Great.”

Adam blows out a breath, and then he leaves without another word.

 

*

 

Adam doesn’t get a wink of sleep that night. He replays their fight over and over again, going over the horrible things that were said, over the hurt on Ronan’s face, over Ronan asking, _Then what the hell are we doing here?_

What _is_ Adam doing? Why didn’t he say yes? What was all of this leading to, if not Adam moving into the Barns, finally accepting the home that Ronan had so willingly and lovingly carved out for him? Hadn’t he told himself time and time again that he could imagine himself in the Barns someday, calling it home, letting himself _have this_.

He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. All he can think of is that trailer. His mind goes to that night in Monmouth, right after he’d pressed charges, when lay in Noah’s room, thinking all he wanted was _to go home, to go home, to go home_.

It sickens him that, sometimes, he still envisions that trailer when he thinks of home.

He’d come such a long way since that night, since he was that miserable, traumatized boy.

Or maybe he hasn’t come as far as he’d thought.

 

*

 

Adam hasn’t seen Ronan in five days. It’s easy to avoid him, being busy with school and work. He doesn’t go to the Barns, and Ronan doesn’t come to St Agnes or Boyd’s or anywhere else that Adam is.

He’s had nightmares every night, and every night he feels the urge to call Ronan or drive to the Barns. But he doesn’t.

Maybe it’s his pride, and it’s true that Adam is a prideful creature. But so is Ronan, and so are Blue and Gansey, in their own ways.

He feels a mixture of anger and regret and confusion every time he thinks of Ronan. He can’t talk to him, not yet.

So when Gansey – who can sense when Adam and Ronan are fighting from a mile away – tricks Adam into coming to Monmouth thinking that it’d just be the two of them hanging out, he’s not pleased, to say the least.

He walks into Monmouth to find Ronan and Gansey on the couch. Adam freezes.

From the looks of it, Ronan is just as blindsided as Adam is.

“Oh, Adam, you’re here! I invited Ronan for—“

“What the fuck, Gansey?” Adam grits out.

Gansey has the decency to look guilty. “Well, you two obviously need to talk.”

“How many times have I told you I can handle my own shit, Dick?” Ronan snarls, standing up off the couch and walking towards the door. Towards Adam.

“I’m getting out of here,” Ronan mutters, not even looking at Adam as he slams open the door and walks down the steps to the pavement.

Adam scrambles after him, leaving Gansey looking after both of them with a worried expression.

“Ronan! Wait.”

Ronan keeps walking.

Ronan is already at the BMW when Adam catches up with him, out of breath.

“Ronan,” Adam says, chest heaving, as he grabs Ronan’s wrist.

Ronan freezes, then turns towards him, his gaze impassive.

“What, Parrish?”

The coldness in Ronan’s voice hurts. It’s something that hasn’t been directed at Adam in a very long time.

Adam bites his lip, shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He’s looking at the gravel when he mutters, “Don’t you think we should talk?”

“Thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Ronan.”

Ronan huffs. “What’s there to talk about? You said you don’t want this. End of story.”

“And what’s the _this_ you’re referring to? All I said was that I wasn’t ready to—God, you always do this shit. Don’t put words in my mouth, Ronan.”

Ronan glares at the ground. “Whatever. Fuck this. I’m leaving.”

“Lynch, _stop_. Could you at least listen to what I’m saying? You should know better by now than to just-– just _run away_ every time we have a problem.”

“Yeah, well, you should know better about a lot of things by now, so I guess we’ve even, then,” Ronan snaps.

Adam stares at Ronan with what is probably a wounded expression. Then he exhales hard, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. When he pulls his hands away and holds Ronan’s gaze again, his voice is flat and exhausted. “I don’t know what you want from me. What exactly do you want me to do?”

Ronan’s eyes are hard when he lets out a humorless laugh. “It doesn’t matter what I want, Parrish.”

Adam doesn’t respond, doesn’t know how to respond even if he wanted to, so Ronan gets into his BMW, slamming the door and speeding away before Adam can get in another word.

 

*

 

Eleven days after the initial fight, Adam drives to the Barns. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s going there for. He had tried calling Ronan several times, but of course, Ronan being Ronan, he didn’t pick up.

He had even gone to the Barns a few days before, when he knew Opal was at Fox Way, hoping to find Ronan there, but there was no Ronan to be found. He’d been vaguely worried, but Gansey had assured him that he had talked to Ronan – whether on the phone or in person, Gansey didn’t clarify and Adam didn’t ask – and he was fine.

Adam tried not to let that sting.

Opal greets him at the door, with a wide smile and a kiss to his arm.

Adam ruffles her hair. “Hey, Opal. What’s that?”

She holds out the strange object she’s clutching in her hand. Adam thought that maybe it was a dream thing, but as it turns out, it’s just tree branches covered in glitter and feathers.

“Wow,” Adam says, trying his best to sound impressed. He has no doubt that this is Blue’s doing, somehow. “That’s, uh, pretty.”

“I have lots more. I’ll give you one.”

“Sure, I’d love one. Thanks.” Adam hesitates. “Um, is Ronan…”

Opal’s expression turns sad. Then it turns angry. “Stop fighting.” Then she starts babbling really fast in a mixture of English, Latin, and the dream language, her words blurring together as she frantically gestures and flails around. All Adam can make out are the words _Greywaren_ and _love_ and _asshole_.

“Opal, Opal,” Adam says, clutching her shoulders gently but firmly, a little alarmed. “Calm down.”

Opal finally stills, but her face is still set in a glare. “Don’t fight,” she says again.

Adam scoffs, crossing his arms. “Did you tell Ronan that?”

“Yes. Many times. But he’s _Ronan_.”

“I’ve tried talking to him, Opal. It’s not my fault that he’s being impossible.”

“No,” Opal agrees. “Not your fault. But he’s—“

Opal never finishes her sentence, because then someone is coming down the stairs.

“Brat, what are you—“ Ronan stops abruptly when he spots Adam leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Adam’s here,” Opal says, tone meaningful as she stares Ronan down.

Ronan glares back. “I have eyes, urchin.”

“Hey,” Adam says, voice cautious, hands shoved in his pockets.

Ronan’s gaze flits over to him and then away. “Parrish.”

Adam studies him, tries to take apart his tone, his posture, as he walks over to stand next to Opal.

Ronan scowls down at the hooved girl. “Stop eating that.”

Opal sticks her tongue out at him. Then, she looks between the two of them and says, very seriously, “Don’t fight.”

Before either boy can respond, she skitters away, leaving Adam and Ronan alone in the kitchen, both trying to avoid the other’s eyes.

Adam takes a deep breath. Ronan can’t still be mad, can he? It’s been eleven days. He doesn’t even know what they’re fighting about, anymore.

No, that’s a lie. He remembers the problem all too well, but he’s not entirely willing to face it just yet. In any case, Adam doesn’t think it warrants Ronan’s current behavior, certainly not for this long. They have to get over this, because Adam misses him so much that it’s a physical ache inside him.

Adam moves closer to Ronan, stopping when he’s right in front of him, their feet almost touching.

“Lynch,” Adam says, his heart in his throat.

Ronan looks him in the eye for a fraction of a second, and then he steps back, his gaze flitting away to some point behind Adam’s head. “What do you want, Parrish?”

It feels like a punch to the gut.

Instead of crumpling with misery, though, Adam dredges up the remaining fury and resentment from their fight. There’s plenty to spare.

“Are you serious right now?” Adam spits.

Ronan still isn’t looking at him. “Serious about what?”

His casual tone makes Adam want to hit something.

“How long are you going to freeze me out?” Adam demands.

“I’m not—“

“Oh, cut the crap, asshole.”

Ronan doesn’t say anything.

Adam clenches and unclenches his fists. “So you’re really never going to speak to me again just because I said no to moving in with you? _Real_ nice, Ronan. That’s not a dick move at all.”

Ronan scowls. “Don’t play dumb, Parrish. You know that’s not what this is about.”

“Then what _is_ it about? Please, enlighten me.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Ronan snaps. “So unless you need something—“

“You know what I need,” Adam says, suddenly quiet and low. The words are ripped out of him, raw and sizzling with both rage and desperation.

Something flickers in Ronan’s eyes, but he turns away before Adam can identify it. “No, I really don’t.”

In a strangled voice, Adam manages, “Fuck you.”

Adam wishes he could come up with something more creative, but his frustration and anger is making it impossible for him to think. He hates feeling like this. He hates that Ronan, of all people, is making him feel like this.

The way Ronan looks at him is all ice. “Whatever. Have fun at your shithole.”

Adam breathes in, breathes out. Bites down the words he wants to say. Then he turns around and leaves.

 

*

 

On the twelfth day, Blue and Henry show up at the Barns. Ronan greets them with a scowl.

“Good afternoon to you too, Ronan,” Blue says drily.

“The fuck are you guys doing here?”

Henry responds to Ronan’s surliness with a cheery grin. “We’re doing well, Lynch, thanks for asking. And how are you?”

“I was doing fucking fantastic before you two showed up.”

Blue narrows her eyes at him. “Liar.”

Ronan ignores her. “What do you assholes want?”

“Can we at least sit down?” Blue asks, annoyed. “Or are you going to make us stand in the doorway the entire time?”

“It’s not like I invited you here, Sargent.”

Blue takes a step forward, standing up on her tiptoes in some attempt to be intimidating, Ronan guesses. “Well, too damn bad. We invited ourselves, because everything about you is a cry for help right now.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Blue blows out an exasperated breath, and then shoves past Ronan into the living room. Henry shrugs and follows her.

“Sure,” Ronan mutters. “Make yourselves at home.”

He closes the front door and reluctantly joins them. He sits next to Blue on the couch, Henry placing himself perpendicular to them on an armchair. Ronan stares at the table. He can feel Blue and Henry’s expectant gazes on him.

After too many quiet seconds, Ronan finally looks at them. “ _What?_ ” Ronan snarls.

Blue bristles. “Don’t use that tone with me, Ronan Lynch.”

“I’ll use whatever tone I fucking want with you.”

“Okay, that’s it. You really need to fix this thing with Adam, it’s making you ten times more of an asshole than you usually are.”

“I don’t need to fix anything.”

“Just tell me what happened, Ronan,” Blue says.

Ronan says nothing, shifting his gaze from Blue to Henry, who looks like he wants to say something.

Ronan frowns at Henry. “What, Cheng?”

Henry hesitates, then asks, “Should I give you two a minute?”

“What?” Ronan asks, confused. “Why?”

Henry shrugs. “You probably don’t want me here for this. I can go find Opal.”

Ronan studies Henry for a moment. He looks uncertain, an expression that doesn’t often grace his features. Not unless you’re looking closely, at least.

“Don’t be stupid, Cheng,” Ronan says finally. “You can stay here. I don’t give a shit.” Then he scowls. “And if you two came here to convince me of something—“

“What we came here for is to figure out what the fuck is going on,” Blue snaps. “You two have been fighting for, what, weeks, now? I’ve never seen Adam so miserable. And of course he refused to say anything, so we’re stuck with having to find out from you. Now stop being a dick and just tell us what _happened_ , Ronan.”

Ronan stares at Blue, and Blue stares back. This staredown is as familiar to Ronan as his own name. It’s rare for either one of them to win. They’re both equally stubborn, equally willful. Usually they look away at the same time, and then pretend it never happened.

This time, though, Ronan looks away.

He blows out a breath, already knowing he’ll regret speaking. “I asked Adam to move in here.”

Blue’s mouth pops open in a big “O”.

When neither of them say anything, he mutters, “And he said no, obviously.”

“He—I don’t—Ronan, wasn’t he basically already moved in here?” Blue sounds incredibly confused. _Same here_ , _Sargent_.

“Yeah, well, not officially. He still has his apartment and he’s renewing the fucking lease.”

“Okay,” Blue says. “Okay, so then he probably won’t renew it when he leaves for school. He’ll move in here then.”

Ronan shakes his head. “I asked him about that. Didn’t seem like he plans to move in later, either.”

“That… doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah, I fucking know that.”

They’re both quiet for a bit. Finally, Blue says, “Is that really why you’ve been fighting for days? I know it sucks, Ronan, but this seems like an overblown reaction.”

“You don’t know shit about it, Sargent.”

“Then _tell me_ ,” Blue demands.

Ronan huffs an annoyed breath and pinches his nose. “There’s nothing to tell. I asked. He said no. I said shit. He said shit. We fought. Now we’re not talking.”

“From what he said, you’re the one not talking to him.”

“Thought he didn’t tell you anything,” Ronan mutters.

“When we asked him, he said, in these exact words, ‘Lynch is the one who refuses to talk to me so why don’t you leave me alone and ask him what happened.’”

Henry adds, “He gave us one of his classic glares, too. Not going to lie, it was scary.”

Ronan snorts. Adam’s withering glares have intimidated many an Aglionby boy. Even before they were dating, the force of those stares had the power to shut him up. Not always, but sometimes.

Of course Adam had said that Ronan wasn’t talking to him. Ronan can’t exactly deny it.  When Adam approached him outside Monmouth that day, and then again at the Barns, he wanted nothing more than to kiss him, so much that it physically hurt to restrain himself from doing so.

But fear stopped him, as it always did.

It clung to him, in the shape of his friends leaving, of Adam leaving, of Adam saying  _what’s so great here that you’d automatically assume I’d want to stay in this place with you_ , so clear an echo of the words said by that nightmare version of Adam all those months ago that it chilled Ronan to the bone. _Leavable_.

He thought he’d come so far from the boy who hated himself and was so sure that everyone he loved would leave him, but as the days went by and the countdown to everyone leaving began, all his old fears came back, overwhelming him.

Ronan knew it wasn’t fair, but all he could see when Adam said no to moving in was Adam leaving, leaving, leaving, and never coming back. Why would he say yes to a permanent home here when he never planned to stay in it anyways?

“Hey,” a soft voice says, breaking him out of his reverie. Blue’s hand is on his shoulder. “You know him not moving in with you doesn’t mean anything, right?”

Ronan shakes her off, face burning. She knows him too well, sometimes.

“Come on, Ronan. He loves you. Cut him some slack. You know how he is. This is probably hard for him. If Gansey asked me to move in with him right now, I wouldn’t exactly be jumping to say yes either, and I love him more than anything.”

In his peripheral vision, he sees Henry expression fall.

Ronan can’t talk about this anymore. It becomes unbearable suddenly, and Ronan deals with that in the only way he knows how.

“Fuck off, Sargent. You know, you have a lot of fucking nerve trying to give me relationship advice when you clearly have a lot of problems of your own. Maybe you should address those first.”

He looks meaningfully between Blue and Henry. Henry’s face drains of color, while Blue’s turns an alarming shade of red. She sets her mouth in a tight, unforgiving line and stands up.

“God, I should have known it’s absolutely pointless trying to talk to you. You’re such an _asshole_.”

And then she walks away, leaving through the back door and into the fields, presumably going to find Opal.

Ronan puts his head in his hands, closing his eyes. Fuck, he’s tired. He hasn’t slept in days.

It’s quiet for a terrible moment.

“Well, thanks a lot, Lynch,” Henry says, voice clipped. “I’m so glad I came to visit you. It’s always a pleasure.”

Ronan drops his hands and looks at Henry, who looks more pissed off than Ronan has ever seen him.

“She’ll get over it,” Ronan tries.

Henry scoffs. “You’re a dick.”

“No, I believe Dick is the guy you’re in love with.”

Henry’s eyes widen and quickly flit to the back door.

“Jesus, Lynch,” Henry hisses. “Know when you should shut the hell up.”

Ronan shrugs, not the least bit chastened. “Blue already knows, doesn’t she? Sure seemed like it a moment ago.”

Henry looks down, not meeting Ronan’s eyes. “I don’t know. Probably. But we don’t—we don’t talk about it, okay? And we’re not going to. Until these stupid feelings go away and then we can all laugh about it one day.”

Ronan raises an eyebrow. “Sure. Good luck with that.”

Henry lets out a long sigh. “I know you don’t want advice from me of all people, but just talk to Adam, will you? You have something good with him. You’re luckier than you know. Don’t screw it up.”

Ronan doesn’t think he’s ever heard Henry sound so forlorn. It’s disconcerting. And there’s something in his words that bother him.

“The fuck do you mean by you ‘of all people’?” Ronan demands.

Henry looks surprised at the question. “Well—I mean—“

Ronan looks at Henry’s flailing with growing unease.

He knows they got off to a rocky start, but long gone are the days where Ronan considered Henry Cheng a mere annoyance or another one of Gansey’s shitty friends that he couldn’t stand. He thought Henry knew that. But maybe Ronan wasn’t as clear about his feelings as he thought.

“You’re not special,” Ronan says, finally. “None of my friends are allowed to give me advice.  Blue and Gansey are just as terrible at it as you are.”

Slowly, Henry’s lips turn up in a smile. “Good to know.”

Before he can second guess himself, Ronan adds, “You’ll get through it, Cheng. Maybe you could go fuck one of those dudes in your stupid clubs that are always fawning over you. Get your mind off Gansey.”

Henry put a hand to his heart, mouth and eyes widening in a ridiculous, exaggerated fashion. “My word. Did I hear right? Is Ronan Lynch condoning _casual sex_?”

Ronan tries to suppress a smile, but fails. “Shut up, Cheng.”

“No, really, I’m amazed. I never thought I’d see the day. I thought sex was only for proper, loving couples who want to spend their whole lives together, etcetera.”

“I’ve never said that.”

“But you’re always thinking it,” Henry points out.

Ronan shrugs. “Blue told me to judge people less. Live and let live, or what the fuck ever.”

“He’s growing, ladies and gentlemen, and we are so proud—Hey!“

A couch pillow hits him in the face, which incidentally shuts him up.

After a while, Ronan says, “You know Sargent and Parrish dated for a while.”

“I’ve heard.”

He takes a deep breath. “Well, it… fucking sucked. Seeing them together. I thought he was straight, too, at the time.”

“Yeah, and then you found out he wasn’t and kissed him and lived happily ever after. In case you forgot, Blue and Gansey are true loves, whatever that means. And two of my best friends. I don’t think that’s going to happen here.”

“I’m not saying it’s the same, alright? I just meant—I know what it’s like.”

“Are you trying to be comforting? Is that what’s happening right now? Because you’re terrible at it.”

Ronan groans. “ _Cheng_.”

Henry grins. “Hey, I’m not complaining. It’s nice. I almost understand what Parrish sees in you.”

 “Nevermind. I take it back. Forget I fucking said anything.”

Henry’s expression sobers up, and he says quietly, seriously, “I appreciate it.”

Ronan nods at him.

Henry looks towards the back door, and Ronan follows his gaze. Blue is nowhere in sight. “I regret to say this but I think our bonding time must end. I have to go soon, so go find Blue and apologize to her, Lynch.”

Ronan winces. If anyone asks he’ll deny it, but he’s a little afraid of Blue’s wrath. She looked supremely pissed off when she left.

She doesn’t look quite as angry when he finds her, sprawled outside one of the barns with Opal.

When Opal spots him, she tells Blue, “See? I told you he’d come.” Then she sprints off in the other direction.

Ronan wordlessly sits next to Blue, and they stare at the horizon together, in a silence that’s not quite comfortable.

“Are you going to apologize for being a dick, or are you just going to stare at the sky some more?” Blue says eventually.

“Staring at the sky’s fun.”

Blue glares at him, and Ronan bumps her shoulder. “Christ, Sargent, fine. I’m sorry. Alright? I was being shitty.”

“Yeah,” Blue agrees. “You were. I was just trying to help.”

Ronan inhales sharply. “I know. But I don’t—I can’t talk about it.”

“Okay.”

There’s more silence, but it’s companionable, now.

“You’re going to have to deal with the Henry thing eventually, you know.”

Blue shakes her head. “I can’t talk about it.”

“Okay.”

Blue looks at him, then, narrowing her eyes. “Graduation’s day after tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“So, you’re coming right?”

Ronan stays silent.

“Oh, come on, Ronan. Seriously? It’s Adam’s graduation. Not to mention Gansey and Henry’s. They’d want you there.”

Ronan closes his eyes. “I said I can’t talk about it, Blue.”

Adam hadn’t specifically asked him, anyway. They’d never really talked about it. Deep down, Ronan knows that Adam would’ve invited him if they weren’t fighting, but at least this way he has an easy excuse.

Blue makes an exasperated sound. “Fine.”

But she lays his head on his shoulder, and he puts his arm around her.

Henry finds them like that a few minutes later, and sits down next to Blue.

“I believe I told you to hurry up, Lynch. I have a very important appointment in an hour.”

Ronan snorts. “What appointment?”

“Hair appointment.”

Blue lets out a laugh, and it’s not long before Ronan is joining her, and an offended Henry is telling them not to laugh at his grooming needs.

Despite Henry’s claims, they sit there for another half hour, Opal joining them after a bit. She plops herself down on Henry’s lap, and Ronan calls her a traitor, to which she sticks her tongue out.

It’s so peaceful that Ronan almost doesn’t think about Adam for a little while. Almost.

 

*

 

On the fourteenth night, Adam drives. He has no destination in mind, just an itch under his skin, just the need to escape. At first he thinks he might drive to the Barns, but after the disastrous attempt to make things right with Ronan three days ago, he doesn’t particularly want to try that again. So he doesn’t know where he’s going until he gets there, and then he can’t believe he didn’t realize sooner.

 _Cabeswater_.

Or, where Cabeswater used to be.

He hasn’t been here since October, since Cabeswater sacrificed itself, leaving behind nothing but the memory of leaves brushing against Adam’s cheek, saying goodbye one last time.

He knows that Blue and Gansey came here after everything, sometime in December, and they had asked Adam to come with them. He had refused, making some excuse about work and studying, but really, he just hadn’t been ready. He kept making those same excuses as the months went on, though he knew his friends saw right through him.

Ronan had tried to take him there, too, a couple months later, but Adam had been stubborn and it resulted in another fight. Later that night, Adam snuck into Ronan’s room at the Barns and lay next to his sleeping form. Ronan stirred awake moments later and looked at Adam, his gaze searching.

Finally, he said, “It misses you, too, you know.”

“What?” Adam asked, though he knew exactly what.

“Cabeswater. It told me.”

Adam closed his eyes, a single tear rolling down his cheek. Ronan wiped it away with his thumb, kissed the corner of his mouth, a bare press of lips that said, _I’m here_.

Now, he lies down on the lush, slightly damp grass, in a clearing between several soaring trees. He shuts his eyes and listens for something, anything.

Foolishly, he thought that maybe, just maybe, if he concentrated hard enough, he’d be able to hear Cabeswater, hear the trees calling to him, welcoming their magician home.

But there is only the quiet hush of the trees swaying in the wind, nothing magic or otherworldly about them. Not anymore.

He swallows hard, his eyes blinking open as he tries to ignore the ache rising up inside him all over again. He misses Cabeswater so much that he can’t bear it sometimes. Misses the way it comforted him, the way it understood him, wanted him, _loved him_. The way it made him feel powerful, when he had never been powerful before in his life.

Cabeswater had protected him when his father had knocked on his apartment door. The vines and branches of the forest had curled around him, sheltering him, had bared its thorns to the man who was going to hurt him.

It won’t be there, this time.

But maybe it doesn’t need to be.

_Are you the Magician or aren’t you?_

_Your power, Adam, isn’t about other people. It isn’t about other things._

_The Magician sees what is out there and finds connections. The Magician can make anything magical._

Missing Persephone is much like missing Cabeswater – a dull, constant pain at the back of his mind that flares up into something unbearable and all consuming without warning. But maybe all that they gave him isn’t lost.

Even without Cabeswater to make him powerful, without Persephone to guide him, he can feel it inside him, in the tips of his fingers, thrumming through his veins, through the cavities of his heart. _Magician_.

_You’re magic. All of you. Everything about you. Every goddamn inch of you._

For days, his thoughts had been full of that trailer, of punches and beer bottles and screamed taunts that had been like shards of glass permanently lodged inside him. He’d known for months that he’d go back there eventually. Had known that it was something he needed to move on. But the fear had clung to him for so long. He thought he’d never be ready.

He feels ready now.

A different memory comes to the forefront of his brain, a quiet one that somehow manages to drown out the loudness of his father’s fists.

He was at the Barns, napping on the couch on a rare lazy Sunday afternoon. Opal woke him up from his dreamless sleep with fingers stroking his cheek, but he couldn’t even complain when the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was her beaming face, open with fond affection.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” Opal said apologetically.

Adam smiled sleepily. “It’s fine. What’s up?”

Opal paused. “Nothing.” Then, “I’m sleepy, too.”

Adam’s smile turned wider. “Well then come here, kid.”

It took some maneuvering so that they could both be comfortable with Opal’s head on Adam’s chest and _without_ Opal’s hooves digging into him in a painful way, which happened more often than not. But soon Adam was falling back asleep, Opal’s soft _go to sleep, Adam_ echoing in his ear.

Adam woke up again to a raven sleeping on his chest, next to Opal’s face. Her beak was digging into his collarbone, but he couldn’t get himself to care at that moment.

It took a few seconds for him to notice Ronan’s looming figure standing behind the back of the couch, looking at the three creatures on his sofa with an absurdly soft expression, when then turned annoyed when Adam’s eyes met his.

“Hey,” Adam said, his voice coming out as if in a dream.

“I was planning to nap on this couch, Parrish.”

“Sorry. We made it here first. No room for you.”

“Guess I’ll just have to deal.”

“Guess so.”

Ronan was smiling again, and then he leaned over to kiss Adam, ever so gently.

“I’d try to fit you on here with us but I don’t want to wake them,” Adam whispered against Ronan’s lips.

“S’fine,” Ronan said, pulling away already, too soon. Adam’s hand quickly grabbed the back of Ronan’s head and held him there.

“Wait.”  He leaned up and kissed him again, and Ronan hummed into his mouth.

The feeling that Adam Parrish felt in that moment was indescribable. It took him over completely, thrumming through every inch of him, whatever that feeling was. He never wanted it to go away, wanted just this forever: his lips on Ronan Lynch’s, a hooved girl sleeping peacefully on his chest.

The feeling had been indescribable back then, but Adam thinks he knows what it is now. Something he’s been aching for his entire life.

It’s time for him to go home.

 

*

 

On the fifteenth day, Adam graduates. The lightness in his chest when he’s handed his diploma is unlike anything, especially when he sees Gansey and Henry grinning at him from where they stand to the side of the stage, already having gotten theirs, and Blue standing in the audience, being embarrassing, cheering and jumping up and down.

The absence of two specific people doesn’t hurt. It’s exactly what he expected and so there is no disappointment to be had.

The absence of Ronan is palpable, though.

Still, even the sting of Ronan not being there isn’t enough to lessen his confidence and certainty as he drives back to the Barns in his Hondayota.

Ronan is cleaning the kitchen when Adam arrives. He has his headphones on and blaring to the point that Adam can hear them ten feet away, and so it’s only when he turns around that he notices someone else in the room.

Ronan’s eyes widen comically and his mouth falls open, and then his headphones are on the counter and he’s walking towards Adam, almost tripping over his own feet to get to him.

He abruptly stops when he’s in front of him, his hands balled into fists, as if he only just then remembered that they’re fighting and that he’s not allowed to touch Adam. Adam can relate.

“Hey,” Adam says tentatively, hands stuffed in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out.

Ronan doesn’t reply for a long minute, just stares at Adam in a way that makes heat curl inside him.

“Congratulations on graduating, Parrish.”

“Thanks. Wish you’d been there,” Adam says before he can second-guess himself. It comes out a little bitter, but Adam doesn’t feel too bad about that. He thinks he has the right to a little bitterness.

Ronan falters, speechless, and then looks away. “You know how I feel about Aglionby.”

“Right,” Adam mutters. As if they hadn’t talked about Ronan coming to Latin early to spend time with him only a couple weeks ago.

He takes a deep breath, and says, “Look, I know you’re still mad at me, and that’s fine, but I, um. I was wondering if I could borrow the BMW.”

That is clearly not what Ronan was expecting Adam to say. He looks both pained and perplexed at the words. “I—did the shitbox finally break down?”

Adam scoffs. “No, it’s fine.”

“Then why—“

“If you want to say no, just—“

“I’m _not_ saying no, Christ, Parrish, of course you can take it, you can take it whenever the fuck you want.”

Adam exhales. This is stupid. He doesn’t want to keep fighting.

“I want it because—because I’m driving to the trailer park. To visit my parents.”

Ronan freezes. Adam waits, gauging his reaction, expecting a storm.

After moments of stunned silence, Ronan says, disbelieving, “ _What?_ ”

“If you’re going to start a fight with me about this—“ Adam says tersely.

“I’m not starting a fight,” Ronan replies, sounding hurt. “I’m—just—why the _fuck_ would you want to see them, Parrish?”

Adam bristles. “Sure sounds like you’re starting a fight.”

“Fine. Fine, I’m starting a fight. That piece of shit almost _killed you_ while that other piece of shit _watched_ and you’re going to—“

“You think I don’t know that?” Adam demands. “I know exactly what he—what they—did. It’s why I need to go.”

“That makes no damn sense.”

“It’s not like I haven’t seen them around before. You know that. And I called them, too.”

Ronan gapes at Adam. “You _what_?”

Adam crosses his arms defensively. “I called a week ago to invite them to graduation.”

Ronan balk at the words, and his voice is rough when he asks, “You invited them? You—“ He breaks off, his hand running over his head. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“They didn’t come,” Adam says. “Honestly, I didn’t quite expect them to.”

Ronan looks both angered and relieved by that information. “Then why did you call them?”

“I needed closure. I _need_ closure. I need to know if there’s a possibility that—“

“That what? That they’ll act like real fucking parents for once? You know that’s never going to happen.”

Adam sighs, frustrated. “You don’t get it.”

“You’re right, I don’t.”

“Well, I don’t have the time or the patience to explain it to you right now,” Adam snaps. “Can I take the BMW or not?”

Ronan doesn’t answer, just stares at Adam for an indeterminable length of time. Adam almost resigns himself to driving the Hondayota when Ronan speaks.

“He knows it’s mine.”

“I know,” Adam says levelly.

“You said he also knows we’re dating.”

“Yes.”

“He won’t be happy when he sees you driving it.”

“No, he won’t.”

They stare at each other, and then Ronan flashes him a smile of approval, of pride, and it’s short lived but Adam feels it everywhere.

Then Ronan’s expression sobers up. “Adam, I—shit. You’re sure about this?”

“I’m sure. I need to do this.”

Ronan stares at Adam for an agonizing moment, and then nods in acceptance. “Okay.” He steps forward and cups Adam’s face with his hands. Adam sucks in a breath. Ronan is looking at him in a way that Adam has missed, that he hasn’t experienced in weeks. “I’ll come with you.”

Adam puts his own hands over Ronan’s and shakes his head. “No.”

“Adam—“

“I need to do this on my own,” Adam says gently.

Ronan closes his eyes, his mouth pressed into a tight line, opens them again. “If you want, I can just sit in the car while you talk to them.”

The offer is more tempting than Adam wants to admit. “No, Ronan. I need to go alone.”

“He could hurt you.”

“He won’t.”

“But—“

“ _Ronan_. Do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you.”

“Then _trust me_. Trust me to do this by myself. I’ll be okay.”

Ronan presses his forehead against Adam’s, breathes in and out. “Alright.” Then he pulls away, his hands dropping to his sides. Adam misses his touch immediately, and so he takes one of Ronan’s hands in his, tangles their fingers together. Ronan looks down and inhales suddenly.

“Fuck, Adam,” Ronan whispers, and then he slides his hand into the curls at the nape of Adam’s neck. Adam feels winded just from that small touch.

“I’m not still mad, by the way,” Ronan says quietly. “I shouldn’t have been mad in the first place. Shit.” Ronan huffs, frustrated at himself.

Adam touches Ronan’s cheek. “It’s okay. We’ll talk about it when I get back.”

“Okay.” Ronan looks at Adam, and Adam looks at him, and then they’re both leaning in, and _oh_.

It’s everything he’s wanted and craved for days: Ronan’s lips on his own, Ronan’s hands in his hair, Ronan’s ragged breaths against his mouth, all of it _Ronan,_ making him dizzy, making his knees go weak.

Adam’s hands clutch Ronan’s t-shirt, pulling him closer, _closer_ , until every inch of them is pressed together and he can feel Ronan’s heartbeat against his own. He’s missed that, that steady _thump-thump-thump ,_ reminding him that Ronan Lynch is so very alive.

Ronan’s nails dig into Adam’s scalp, making Adam’s breath hitch, and then he has to pull away, because he can’t afford to get carried away at the moment. Ronan makes a displeased sound, trying to pull him back.

“Fuck,” Adam gasps, pressing his face into the juncture between Ronan’s neck and shoulder, his favorite place. “We can’t—if you keep kissing me like that I won’t be able to go.”

“That’s kind of my motive here, Parrish.”

Adam pulls back and frowns. “Ronan,” he says, sternly.

Ronan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know. I get it.”

Adam clears his throat, trying to make his breathing normal again. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Adam starts to leave, but Ronan pulls him back. Adam raises an eyebrow in question.

Ronan huffs. “Just. Come here.” And then he pulls Adam into a hug, a real hug, Ronan’s arms tight around his waist and Adam’s looping around Ronan’s neck. Adam inhales deeply, and is overwhelmed by a sense of comfort, of love, of _home_ , just by Ronan’s familiar scent and the closeness of their bodies.

It’s extraordinary sometimes, Adam thinks, everything that this one boy can give him, without even trying.

“We’re okay now, right?” Adam murmurs into Ronan’s collarbone. He needs to know for sure, needs to hear it, so that he can make the drive to his parents’ trailer with as much ease as possible.

“Yeah. Shit. Of course we are.”

Adam exhales. “Okay.”

Adam kisses him again, and as much as he wants to linger, wants to feel everything that he hasn’t for two weeks, he breaks away after a moment.

Ronan hands him the BMW keys and brings Adam’s knuckles to his mouth. Adam smiles at him, squeezes his hand, and then he’s out the door.

 

*

 

When Adam arrives back at the Barns, Ronan is on the porch waiting for him, pacing back and forth. Adam walks over to him, a little amused.

“Have you been doing that the entire time?”

“No,” Ronan says harshly. A pause. “Maybe.”

Adam smiles, climbing up the porch steps and taking Ronan’s clenched hands in his.

“I see the BMW is in one piece,” Ronan says.

Adam rolls his eyes. “I’ve been driving it for months, Lynch.”

“You still suck at driving stick.”

“No I don’t,” Adam says dismissively.

Ronan lets out a ragged breath, as if he’s been holding it in for hours. “You okay?”

“Don’t I look okay?”

“Adam.”

“I’m _fine_ , Ronan.”

“How did it go? Really.”

“It went well.”

Ronan gives him a skeptical look.

Adam shrugs. “They acted just as I expected. No better and no worse. I said what I needed to. I got the closure I wanted. So, it went well.”

Ronan kisses his palm. “If you say so.”

“I do. And I’m going to call Mom once in a while. Let her know how I’m doing.”

Ronan looks pained at that information, but Adam speaks before he can say anything. “Don’t fight with me about that. It’s my choice, Lynch.”

“I wasn’t going to fight with you, Christ. Think we’ve fought enough for now.”

“Yeah,” Adam replies softly. “We have.”

Ronan cups his cheek and kisses him, tender and intense and passionate. Adam responds with just as much fervor, until they’re both out of breath and panting.

“God,” Ronan mutters, his forehead against Adam’s. “God. I missed that so fucking much.”

Adam smiles. “Yeah. Me too.”

“I’m sorry. About everything.”

Adam is proud of himself for repressing a snarky remark about Ronan apologizing for once. Instead, he says, “Me too.”

“You don’t have to—“

“Come on,” Adam interrupts. “Let’s go inside. I need to talk to you about somethin’.”

Ronan looks terrified before he schools his expression, so Adam squeezes his hand in reassurance. “It’s nothing bad. I promise.”

They go inside and sit side by side on the couch. Ronan wrings his hands together in anticipation, and Adam almost laughs.

“ _Lynch_ ,” Adam says, putting his hand over Ronan’s. “Stop looking like you’ve seen a damn ghost.”

Ronan glowers at him, which Adam ignores.

“What I wanted to tell you was—I want to move in with you.”

Ronan stares at him. “You want to—what?”

“I want to move into the Barns with you,” Adam says, slowly, as if he’s talking to a kindergartener.

“Parrish—forget I said anything. You don’t have to agree to this just because—“

“I’m agreeing to this because I _want to_. I want this.”

Ronan still looks doubtful, so Adam sighs and kisses him.

“I think…” Adam trails off, trying to turn his tangled thoughts into words. He’s had a lot of realizations in the past few days, and he doesn’t know how to convey to Ronan just how sure he is. He tries again, voice steady and careful, “I think I needed to let go of the place I thought was my home to accept my real one.”

It’s the best he can do, but from the expression on Ronan’s face, Adam thinks it’s enough.

Visiting Cabeswater had pushed most of the doubts from his mind, but it was only after visiting the trailer that Adam was a hundred percent certain. He’d stared at it all – the suffocating trailer, the dust around it, the harsh lines of his parents’ mouths. The memories in each corner replayed in his head, and for once he didn’t recoil from them. He let them wash over him and then rolled them away, letting them fall into a place where they couldn’t hurt him anymore.

He could not quite believe that he’d thought of that place as home for so long.

He’d felt so much lighter as he’d driven back to the Barns, that broken and bruised place no longer a burden on his chest.

Ronan looks at him, his gaze so intense and penetrating that Adam almost looks away.

Then he smiles. “Okay, Parrish.”

Adam lets out a breath. “Okay?”

Ronan grins wider, as if he can’t quite contain his glee. “Yeah. You’re fucking moving in here.”

Adam laughs, kissing Ronan softly. “Yeah, I am,” he says against Ronan’s mouth.

“I don’t need them anymore,” Adam adds after a moment. “I haven’t for a long time. I—“ Adam swallows, struggling with the words. “I always thought I didn’t have—but I do. Because—“

His sentences are incoherent, Adam knows, but he hopes Ronan understands anyway. He hopes he understands that—

“You’re my family, Ronan,” Adam says, shaky but earnest.  

Ronan looks stricken, and Adam thinks he’s said something wrong, but then Ronan is kissing him, hard and desperate, as if he’s trying to say something with his mouth. Something like, _you’re my family, too_.

And he has said it before, really, all those months ago, right before Thanksgiving.

 _And the fuck do you think_ you _are?_

Ronan had accepted Adam as a part of his family a long time ago. And it may have taken Adam a while to fully realize that, but he’s glad he’s here now. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

It’s not long before the kisses turn hungry. Soon Adam is on his back on the couch, and Ronan is on top of him, their hips pressed together and Ronan sucking bruises into Adam’s neck.

 _God_ , he’s missed this.

Of course, then his phone rings.

Ronan groans loudly into his throat, and though the cause of it is hardly sexy, Adam feels a ridiculous burst of arousal at it.  

It’s with great strength and determination that Adam manages to push Ronan away and reach towards his phone on the table.

“Parrish, are you fucking serious?”

“It’s Blue. She told me come to Monmouth later, and it’s, well, later.”

“Yeah, she told me, too. I wasn’t planning to actually go.”

Adam picks up the phone, and the conversation is short, but he agrees to go and to bring Ronan, too.

“You two made up?” Blue shrieks into the phone. “Thank fuck.”

“Language, Sargent,” Ronan yells from above him.

Adam pushes Ronan’s face away with his palm. “We’ll leave in a few minutes, Blue.”

“I can’t believe you agreed to go when we’re doing _this_ , Parrish,” Ronan whines.

“I think you can manage to wait a couple hours.”

“It’s been two weeks, Adam.”

Adam smiles up at him and touches his cheek. “Trust me, I know. We’ll make up for those two weeks tonight.”

“We fucking better.”

Reluctantly and with much difficulty, they untangle their bodies and get ready to drive to Monmouth.

As soon as the BMW starts, the radio station playing Ronan’s music automatically turns on, and Ronan’s eyebrows go up nearly to his hairline.

Adam’s ears turn bright pink.

“Though you hated my music, Parrish.”

Adam shrugs, not meeting Ronan’s eyes. “It’s not so bad. It… it reminds me of you.”

Ronan grins at him, and Adam struggles not to flush deeper.

“Shut up, Lynch. It was calming, okay?”

Ronan’s grin turns earnest rather than smug, and Adam puts his hand over his on the gearshift.

“I’ll make sure to put on my music while we’re having sex tonight, Parrish, since you like it so much.”

“God, _shut up_ , you asshole,” Adam says, laughing.

Ronan’s still grinning, wild and happy and unrepentant.

On the drive over, he tells Adam about his gift to Blue, Gansey, and Henry, and Adam looks at him in amazement, at Ronan’s unique brand of thoughtfulness and love.

When they reach Monmouth, Blue immediately tackle hugs Ronan.

“Hello to you, too, maggot,” Ronan says dryly.

“Shut up, asshole. I love you.”

Blue’s head is buried in Ronan’s chest, so she can’t see the bright, pleased smile on Ronan’s face. Ronan kisses the top of her head, and Adam hears Henry mutter _he’s such a sap_ from next to him. Adam is inclined to agree.

“I take it you liked the car?” Ronan says, still smiling.

“Oh, she loved it,” Gansey says. “You should’ve been there to see the way she jumped up and down like an excited child.”

Still hugging Ronan, Blue flips Gansey off, and Adam laughs, at the ridiculousness and strangeness of his friends, at how much he loves all of them.

Gansey comes up to Adam and inclines his head at Ronan. “I see you two made up.”

“We did.”

“I’m glad. You both look a lot happier.”

Adam smiles, thinking of the Barns waiting for them, of Opal, of Ronan, of family. “We are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOME IMPORTANT NOTES  
> \- The next chapter will start immediately where this one left off, so Adam and Ronan will discuss their fight, graduation, etc. a little bit more in that one as well. I had initially planned to wrap up the whole thing and add more domestic fluff and feelings about Adam moving in in this one, but it's already really long and I'm also so tired of looking at this dumb chapter, so it's all being moved to the next one.  
> \- I despise the idea of Ronan not going to Adam's graduation. I think it's especially sad considering Adam invited his own parents and they didn't come. If I was writing this now, I'd probably just scrap that and have him go, but 2016 me tried to stick to canon as much as possible, so. Hopefully the fight was realistic?  
> \- I was going to include an Adam/Gansey scene similar to the Ronan/Henry/Blue one but, I got lazy. Maybe I'll add something similar in another chapter.  
> \- Adam's flashback at Cabeswater was inspired by [this amazing fanart](http://fuocogo.tumblr.com/post/164390982987/too-many-dreamers-too-small-a-couch).  
> \- I feel like all I ever write Pynch doing is like.... lounging around and cuddling at St. Agnes. Cuddlng on the couch at the Barns or in Ronan's bedroom. Cuddling at Monmouth. I promise they do more things together besides that, guys. Fun things. Idk. I'm not creative enough come up with those activities but use your imagination.  
> \- Despite what Adam says at the beginning of the chapter, don't worry, he will bottom eventually. Also, if there's anything y'all want to see in this fic don't be afraid to suggest it? There are certain things I want to include, but otherwise this fic is pretty plotless so like. I am open to anything.  
> \- Please do leave a comment if possible and maybe mention something specific you liked or didn't like about the chapter. Thank you for all the love for the fic and sorry for being awful at updating. I'm not sure when the next update will be, hopefully it won't take as long as this one but who knows.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://adamparrush.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/adamparrush). Any feedback and comments would be great~


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